Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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Everest might not understand expressions all that well, but he's at least hit the mark with this one, because it's with a chiming laugh that Isla nods to him. "That's a very good point," she concedes, glancing back as he ascends the steps with her. "And that's alright. It isn't a typical subject of conversation, I'll grant you that much. But I'm glad if I could help." Then again, Ever isn't all that typical a man.
"Well, who am I to stop you from this sort of learning opportunity?" Smiling, Isla heads along the street once they've cleared the steps, able to see the swinging sign of her clinic up ahead. "It is," she agrees softly, of sky sailing at night. "It was lovely when we flew to the Greatwood. It was in Mateo's schooner as well, actually."
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
"You have." The aviator agrees, and while his tone is far less sing-song than it was in the high heat with the full impact of the drugs singing in his veins, his ability to maintain eye contact and smile at the same time hasn't abandoned him yet.
Raising his eyebrows a touch uncertainly—he assumed the question was rhetorical but thought it wise not to press further—Ever returns her smile. "We?" The uncertainty spreads, and though he doesn't trip over himself to try and connect the missing dots, there's a rather boyish blankness in his eyes as he tries to recall having ever flown Isla to the Greatwood.
As they reach the clinic, Ever reaches out to pull open the door, shading his eyes with his free hand to adjust to the pleasant darkness within. It's only once he's inside that he's aware of just how warm he still is; having burned more than he thought, the heat radiating off of his skin was annoying enough to have him planning on taking a quick dunk in the healing fountain before heading to La Verbena.
the boards will still creak the leaves will still die
"We, yes," Isla says with a smile over her shoulder as they approach the clinic, before remembering herself. "Oh! It was Remi and I," she explains belatedly, her smile lilting towards the apologetic. "Sorry for the confusion. After I first became an Ancient, I had never been on a skyship before, so he borrowed La Verbena and took me on a trip."
The memory still makes her warm, and Isla murmurs a thanks as Ever opens the door, ducking inside as well. There are a few people waiting, but Isla has more than just herself to rely upon these days, and so it's with a quick greeting to those present behind the desk that she beckons for Ever to come with her towards her office in the back.
"Are you alright? You're looking a bit flushed," she remarks, remembering how he'd overheated when they'd been putting together the first aid kits. "I have some fountain water here, if you want to take some?"
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
Whether or not Everest could or should read into the Medic overlaying memories of Remi given their current conversation, he merely smiled his understanding. "Ah, I see." If he bristled at all at the thought of someone else flying La Verbena, he did his best to hide it in the removal of his guitar from his back that he might allow the skin beneath the strap to relax somewhat.
Not wanting to make heat stroke a recurring theme, the aviator bobbed his head silently as he followed Isla through the clinic. "Normally I would hate to waste your supplies, but I suppose this is a medical clinic." He remarks, his eyes considering Isla's silhouette as his mind tries to decide what to make of it.
Leaning his guitar against one of the walls, Ever glances down at his poorly buttoned shirt with a comical sort of frown, as if wondering just who had done such a bad job of it. Certainly not him. "Better applied topically, I would think." He suggests. "I can manage that while you draw the map..?"
the boards will still creak the leaves will still die
"It is what people come here for," Isla agrees with a light chuckle, heading into the cool shade of her office and already beginning to take out some parchment and a bit of charcoal to draw him a map as best she knows how. Just before she begins, though, she can't help but grin up at him where she's leaning over her desk. "Do you remember when we were speaking before, and I said there were a lot of things I had never learned how to do? I'm sure map-making was one of them. I hope I don't get you lost out there."
As for the water, the topical application, and his hilariously buttoned shirt, the Remedy bites her lip around her smile and nods to him. "Feel free," she says. "There's water and clean cloths in the stock room. I think you know where." He had helped to set the place up, after all.
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
Boyishly attentive, Ever's expression melts from thoughtful to amused as he snorts under his breath. "As you said before, it isn't hard to find. Besides, from everything I've seen so far I'd be a fool not to trust in your instincts."
Indeed he did know where, and so with a sprig of melody caught between his lips, the aviator ducks out into the hall where he easily finds said supply closet. It takes only moments in the nearby bathroom to remove his shirt and douse his (very) sunburned shoulders with the water. Immediately he can feel the sting and heat begin to lessen, and it's with a long sigh that pours the remaining water down his back. Cleaning the sink and floor with one of the towels before returning to Isla with his shirt balled up in one hand, (to let himself dry without scrubbing at his irritated skin), he peers over one shoulder at the map she was creating.
Now, had this been a scene from one of Mateo's books, he'd perhaps have whispered something in her ear. A word of simple thanks, perhaps, and when she turned he'd lean one arm over her head, caging her against her desk. Or perhaps he'd ask her to check him over for any other marks that might need seeing to. There might have been a million things Everest could have done, if only he had the experience to know which he might like to do, and pair such scenarios with the ones he thought Isla too might like. Alas, it was only with curiosity that he came to her and a murmur of thanks for the water.
the boards will still creak the leaves will still die
"Far be it for me to make you into a fool, Everest," Isla trills after him, settling down to try and sketch out the map while he goes to take care of his sunburn. Indeed, had this been a scene from one of Mateo's books, perhaps Isla would have been sitting on the edge of the desk when he returns, map in hand, a pair of librarian-esque spectacles on her nose. Maybe her skirt would be scandalously short, or her shirt buttoned a touch too low. Shame.
As it stands, the murmur of thanks makes her jump more than anything, the Remedy having been concentrating far too much on the map to notice his return, and she steps back and almost directly into his chest (perhaps stepping on a toe accidentally as she goes). "Fuck," she says through a laugh. "Gods, I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd come back."
Clearing her throat and gesturing to the parchment on the table, she decides the map is about as good as it will ever be. "There. That should help, I hope."
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
idk why but that description made me think of weather girl Janna.
One might think that no matter the amount of comical situations or "this is the part where" 's that Ever found himself in, that he'd never be able to see them without the gift of hindsight. Now, you'd be correct in so thinking, but that didn't mean Everest was entirely without intuition. It was just very quiet. And cloaked in purple smoke.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks suddenly, but not without thought. Asking, and consent in general, would always be very important for the aviator, and though later he'd learn that being asked could be an ick for some or an indication of a lack confidence for others, for now with the cards in his hand, asking was important.
Only with Isla so close did he really understand that yes, he really did want to kiss her. She seemed soft in a way he wanted to verify with his hands, and given how life-changing his last kiss with a woman had been, unbidden anticipation was already releasing butterflies in his stomach. He wanted more, in fact, and it was partially for that reason he wanted to go to the House of Midnight. But a kiss? That at least he thought he could do without embarrassing himself too much.
the boards will still creak the leaves will still die
Having been about to roll up the parchment and tie it off so that Ever could carry it without it unfurling, the aviator's sudden question hits the air and stills Isla's fingers in their task quite succinctly. Straightening and glancing around to look at him, it's with a tilt of her head and a very puzzled glint in her pebble blues that she regards him, shirtless and deeply tanned (no longer sunburnt, luckily) and so clever but so not at the same time.
"Yes," she says softly, and the word is almost a surprise to herself when she hears it, but it doesn't make it any less true. "Yes, I'd like that." It's with a gentle smile that she turns to face him properly, opting not to ruin things by making the first move. This doesn't seem like one of the learning experiences he'd been talking to her about, but he'd been the one to ask, after all.
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
Ever's eyes searched Isla's, as if the word she'd spoken might be reflected in her pebble blues so he could verify it with another of his senses. His hearing had failed him so often in the past, and —yes, I'd like that.
Now colour did flush across his cheeks, and had he still possessed a mind not lavender-soaked, he might have suddenly worried that he did have heat stroke. Instead, he raised one careful hand and with unsteady fingers, let them ghost over Isla's cheek before anchoring gently in her hair. It was the sort of thing he'd clearly seen before, rendering the movements a bit clunky and disingenuous until feel took over and his fingers softened as the hell of his palm curved around her cheek.
Unsure where his other hand ought to go, somewhere, he was sure, Ever blinked away the itch of it from his mind as he pulled his gaze from Isla's stare and to her lips. Taking a breath—his life had literally been changed before, so this felt a touch more monumental than it should have—he leaned down to press his lips against hers.
Softer than Mateo's, Ever's mouth felt too large against Isla's. Like he might swallow her whole if he wasn't careful; that his palm on her cheek was too big, that he was towering improperly over her despite not being that much taller. So, before what they could be doing could even really be called kissing, Ever pulled back with a start. "—sorry. I...don't think that was right."
the boards will still creak the leaves will still die
It both is and isn't everything Isla has come to expect; her lips curl up in a smile at his warm hand against her cheek and his fingers in her hair, and she can practically feel it when Ever relaxes into the gesture, allowing her to step a little closer. Taking his lead, she tilts her chin up and meets his kiss with gentle, waiting lips - only for him to draw back what feels like only a microsecond later. "Mm?" She tilts her head into his hand. "In what way? It seemed fine to me."
Almost worried that this whole thing will frighten the aviator away from any further attempts, Isla moves closer still. "You can hold me, if you like," she murmurs. "Like this." If he allows, she'll guide his free hand around her waist, allowing her to lean in and against his chest a fraction. "Do you want me to show you how I like to kiss, and to be kissed?"
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
"It did?" Maybe the feel of a kiss was far more unique than he gave it credit for. In fact, being grabbed by Dahlia and then lazily made-out with by Mateo were really not the best instances of kissing to hold up in comparison with what he'd just done with Isla. Alas, lack of experience and all that.
Far more sober than he'd been with Mateo, Ever was aware of the beat of his own heart, but found he didn't mind his stampeding rhythm. It felt appropriate, somehow, and though it was distracting, the feel of Isla's body against his was more than loud enough to drum it out. "I would." Studiously, at first, Ever placed his hand around Isla's waist in a way which might have reminded her of early days learning ballroom dancing back in Northaven were she paired with some awkward youth too intimidated by her beauty to be anything but nervous. However as she pressed herself against him, unconsciously his fingers spread against her lower back in support of the movement.
"Yes—" The please died on his lips, as he was holding his breath.
the boards will still creak the leaves will still die
04-23-2024, 10:05 PM (This post was last modified: 04-23-2024, 10:13 PM by Isla.)
Isla
"That feels good." Isla smiles her reassurance as the aviator's gentle hand settles against her lower back in a movement that might even be deemed natural, now that he's been given enough time to warm up to it. Waiting for his consent - because yes, it is important, and they are both in agreement of this - the Remedy leans in for another taste of his lips. Her mouth is naturally more confident in its explorations, but she keeps things chaste on purpose, not wanting to overwhelm with sloppy makeouts or the unnecessary clash of teeth. (She's not really into that, anyway).
Only as she feels herself melt further against his body do her lips part, one hand pressing to his chest while the other chases up through the back of his curls. Drawing back before her tongue can run away with itself, Ever's proximity is doing just as much as the kisses are, and it's with pink cheeks that Isla glances up at him. "Better? Or would you like more practice?"
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
Isla's encouragement works wonders, if only because people-pleasing is ingrained so deeply in his soul that not even Dahlia's purple haze can blot it out completely. What's more, Ever finds, to the surprise of no one at all, that her praise is a turn on.
As her lips find his again, he pulls her closer. Not so bold as he'd been with Mateo to let his fingers scurry over her skin, still, his fingertips do wander ever so slightly, brushing against the fabric covering her hip. Breathless, it's with a sharp and disjointed inhale that he blinks her back into focus before swallowing hard as a shiver runs from the tangle of her fingers in his hair all the way down to his spine. "Much better." He agrees in a voice that sounds surprisingly rough to his ears.
"I think we can both agree I need more practice." Smiling a touch crookedly, enough only to have one dimple deepening beneath the scruff on his cheek, his eyes narrow ever so slightly. "Perhaps it's just a trick of the light...but are you blushing Doctor Lockwood?"
the boards will still creak the leaves will still die
