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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
"Mmhm," Jack says with a raise of his eyebrows, fingertips drumming gently against the back of the bench as he watches her, wild and unrepentant and stretched just out of reach beneath him. "Of course you could. I could have cleaned it up afterwards," he objects; he can't think of many in Torchline who wouldn't have wanted to lick ice cream off her pale skin in the morning light. Perhaps another time.
Accepting the semi-frozen treat when she finally offers it out and not budging an inch as she twists around, now it's Jack's turn for his smile to turn fiendish, and he gives her an exaggeratedly nonchalant shrug. "Always plenty to do on the islands," he remarks. "Might have someone droppin' by later to discuss a shipment worth ferryin' out of Torchline." And it's always nice to make a good impression, even if it's hardly their first impression of the Captain."
"Find out anythin' interestin' while I was gone?"
fight so dirty but you love so sweet talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
The Ark clicks her tongue as though Jack has proposed some extravagant inconvenience on her behalf. "No, you’ve already got far too much to do this afternoon." The innocence of it is undercut by the look she gives him over the lowered edge of her sunglasses, plainly aware that she was absolutely on his list of things to do.
She turns her attention to her hands, then, drawing a thin sheen of saltwater across her palms before rubbing them together until the last trace of sweetness is gone. [sy]"Nothing especially useful on the surface," she admits, settling back against the bench. The qualification is deliberate; Jack could have peeled half the market open merely by walking through it, while she had been left to rely on loose mouths and the confidence people found when they believed no one important was listening.
"Finch’s name came up," she continues, "and someone else was complaining that the Thieves Cant in the Fingers has been mangled so badly half of it is just nonsense rather than misdirection." Codes only work while everyone agrees upon them; subterfuge was one thing, but once thieves begin twisting the language for their own convenience, every message becomes an invitation to betrayal. "It sounds like the undercity’s become considerably less...organized since you left." There has never been much honour among thieves, but under Jack’s hand there had at least been order, rules, and consequences sharp enough to keep the worst opportunists from fouling the whole machine. Without him, it appears the Fingers have begun to rot into a free-for-all, with everyone cheating badly and no one competent enough to make them regret it.
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
"I s'pose I'll just have to delegate then, won't I?" Jack says with an arched eyebrow, uncharacteristically nonchalant when it comes to today's arrangements, though that's largely to do with having freshly come ashore (and the plethora of filthy thoughts The Ark keeps sending him). As for the marketplace, whether it's especially useful or not doesn't change the eager way he files away the knowledge; this isn't a visit so much as a homecoming, and it will take a while to recreate his mental map of the islands and her connections.
Finch's name is a surprise but it shouldn't be, and the news about the Fingers earns the long-suffering groan of a man who has spent his days building fences only to find them trampled when he turns away for two minutes. "'Course it fuckin' is," he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was half hopin' someone would've taken over when I left, that way I'd just have one throat to slit."
This, though - this is a tangle of problems to solve.
fight so dirty but you love so sweet talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
The Ark widens her eyes and presses a hand lightly to her chest as though he has proposed something truly astonishing. "Delegating? I’ll believe that when I see it." Mischief keeps tugging at her mouth despite the performative tone of her voice, and she lets the playful challenge drift between them with every intention of continuing to test just how generous Jack's mood would remain.
The Fingers, however, deserve more than teasing. She shifts along the bench until one knee is tucked beneath her and she can face him properly, reaching up to trace the newly sharpened line of his beard before her cool fingertips move to his temples. "No work headaches today," she tells him, smoothing her thumbs once against his skin as though she might press the entire snarled undercity out of his thoughts by force.
Her grin returns a moment later, keen enough to show that she has no objection to helping once today has been properly enjoyed. "Besides, I'd be happy to bring you as many throats as you like." She could let her song or other snares slip through the tunnels and draw every ambitious fool after her, leading them willingly into the dark until they found Jack waiting at the end of it.
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
"Hey, now. Give Murph some credit," Jack says with a sly smile, pausing to sample the ice cream she's been generously taking care of for him so far. It's true that the Captain is still a control freak, but the benefit of telepathy is being able to know if a job has been done properly when handed to someone else, and his first mate has a good track record in that respect. "Though I'm gonna force him to take a few days' shore leave, even if it kills him." It isn't every day you return home, right?
Thoughts about the Fingers are as necessary as they are unwelcome today, Jack so consumed by them that The Ark's touch comes as a surprise, the Captain flinching a bit before realising who and what is happening. "Fine," he grumbles, reluctant to let the line of thinking go but willing to tackle it at a later time when he isn't fresh from the healing fountain and the barbershop.
The idea of The Ark serenading over-ambitious smugglers to their doom isn't a bad one, though, Jack leaning further against the bench and tilting his head down at her. "I'll make you a list," he suggests. "For now, though, I think you're at the top of mine."
fight so dirty but you love so sweet talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
The Ark’s mouth curves as she concedes the point with a small nod. Murphy is the exception that proves Jack’s rule, trusted because he has earned it too many times to count. "I suppose I shouldn’t pretend something’s gone terribly wrong while he’s ashore, then?" she muses, though the wicked gleam behind the suggestion makes it clear she finds the idea entertaining. Any other vessel left without both Captain and first mate might have reason to panic, but The Ark can mind her own decks from half a city away. Murphy has more freedom than most men in his position; the real challenge will be convincing him to use it.
Her magic-cooled fingers stay against his temples as Jack leans closer, but the grin she tips up at him is all heat and teeth. She doesn’t need a siren’s song to lure him anywhere; not when she knows exactly how quickly his attention narrows once it lands on her, or how many filthy promises already crowd the water between their thoughts. Her thumbs drag slowly toward the freshly trimmed edges of his hair, appreciating the barber’s work while imagining how thoroughly she intends to test whether the length is appropriate or not.
One maroon brow arches. "I’ve bumped wardrobe shopping, have I?" The Ark purrs, sounding wickedly delighted by the promotion though hardly surprised. Her gaze drops pointedly over him before returning to his face, wolfish satisfaction curling across her mouth.
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
"Not for his first stint ashore, not unless you want him as a permanent fixture on the ship from now on," Jack drawls around another lick of ice cream; not that Murphy isn't practically that already, but this would be a sure way to get him to start sleeping on deck. "He was more acceptin' than most when we left," he adds half under his breath; given his family situation and all that Jack had explained when they had been in the Tide and Tonic, of course. "So givin' him somethin' to focus on is likely for the best."
All of which is to say that delegation, as well as the looming trouble in Rae's Fingers, might be just what his first mate needs to feel back at home. Which works for Jack just fine, especially given how distracting The Ark's touch is beginning to feel and the way the heat in her thoughts lights a fuse along his own.
"Ain't sure how you'd expect me to focus on watchin' you undress before I scratch this itch," he mutters, head tilting surreptitiously into her touch and the way her salt-sweet fingers play through the still sunkissed tips of his hair. It had been hard enough the first time she'd gone to try on outfits, and that had been before either of them had gotten the chance to taste the other. "Lead the way, love. Gotta start makin' new memories in this place, right?"
fight so dirty but you love so sweet talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
The Ark’s grin vanishes when Jack reminds her what Murphy left behind and how much stoicism he showed them despite it. Her chin dips in a sober nod, guilt roughening the water of her thoughts until the harbour there turns restless, dark shapes circling beneath the surface at the memory of every betrayal he endured.
Her mouth curves again at Jack’s complaint, though this smile is sharper and far less sympathetic. "Oh, you were planning on watching?" she asks, haughty enough to suggest he has mistaken his role entirely. She has no intention of teasing anyone but him this time, having already learned how close her games with a tailor could come to ending in blood, but the idea of throwing chum into the water and watching the reactions ripple outward still sends wicked delight through her.
She withdraws her hands from his hair and pushes herself up from the bench, prowling around its side before fitting herself beneath his arm and sliding one of hers around his waist. Rising onto her toes, The Ark lets her lips brush close to his ear. "One day, you’re going to fuck me in the sea," she promises softly, the words full of heat and saltwater. When she settles back onto her heels, mischief and want gleam together in her expression before glancing past him, toward the colourful little booths scattered along the beach, their shutters still closed and their counters empty in the early morning quiet. Later, no doubt, they’ll be used for something incredibly dull like towel rentals or snacks wrapped in wax paper, but for now they stand abandoned enough to offer at least the illusion of privacy. Her mouth curves into a crooked grin as she looks back at him, eyebrows lifting with deliberate, coquettish challenge. "Unless you’d prefer the beach not hear your name this early in the morning."
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
Unwilling to entertain his first mate's surly personality and dark past when there is literal fuckery to be had, as The Ark commits fully to their verbal kiss-chase, Jack rewards her with an indulgent smile of his own. "Watchin', undressin', maybe offerin' some unsolicited opinions. Y'know, just gettin' into the spirit of it," he says, as if the sheer domesticity of it (with or without fucking her in one of the dressing rooms) is nothing more than a fun diversion from their last few seasons.
She rises to her feet and Jack welcomes her beneath his arm without a word, passing off his ice cream to a passer-by who, so surprised to be handed something without notice, takes it before he realises what he's done. The Captain, in the meantime, tips his head down just enough for The Ark to drip treacle into his ear, her words enough to have his fingers spreading warmly and possessively across her hip where they've staked their claim.
"In the sea, on the shore, in one of the fountains..." He lists them like an inevitable checklist rather than possibilities, gaze already following hers to one of the colourful shacks with a smirk kicking up the corner of his mouth. "As if you'd let them miss out on hearin' it no matter where we went," he mutters, hand straying to the curve of her ass to give it a generous squeeze before meandering down towards one of the booths in question, leaving it to The Ark to pick which colour she'd like to be fucked in.
fight so dirty but you love so sweet talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
There might have been pleasure in tugging at the domestic thread Jack has offered her, in discovering how many ordinary, almost boyfriend-shaped indulgences she could coax from him between racks of clothing and unsolicited opinions, but the water of The Ark’s thoughts has been stirred too deeply for anything so light to keep its footing. His arm lies warm and certain around her, and the possessive spread of his hand across her hip sends her heartbeat stumbling against her ribs before the generous squeeze of her ass pulls a darker current through everything else.
As he names the places he means to have her, The Ark does not think of replacing old memories or staking some jealous claim over streets and shorelines that knew him before she ever walked them. She wants something far more satisfying than that; she wants Jack to see Torchline again through her eyes, to rediscover every fountain, alleyway, beach, and market stall alongside someone who has barely begun to know them as anything other than shapes glimpsed from the harbour. The city may already belong to him in a dozen ways, but there are still new memories waiting to be made in it, and she intends to leave her mark on every one.
As it turns out the colour she wants is simply whichever booth stands closest. The handle holds fast as she wriggles it, but The Ark merely shrugs. Bracing her hands against the counter jutting through the open serving window, she lifts herself up with easy grace and slips through, dropping into the cramped interior among a stack of towels, an empty cash box, and a lone chair. There is barely room for two people to stand comfortably, which only sharpens the anticipation coiling low through her.
Whether Jack follows her through the same opening or finds some other way inside hardly matters. The instant he appears, she'll reach for him with both arms, hands curved like a predator’s paws as she catches hold of his shirt and drags him into her. Her mouth will meet his with none of the teasing patience she has spent all morning pretending to possess, the kiss demanding and hungry enough to suggest she has been deprived of him for years rather than less than an hour. She presses closer, pouring every darkened current in her thoughts straight into the contact, as though the only sensible way to begin seeing Torchline anew is with Jack pinned against her and no space left between them.
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
This is the only way Jack ever plans to drown, and it's as good a way to lose himself as any as far as he's concerned. Only when they draw close to the booth and he knows for certain that those who had been strolling the marketplace have lost either sight or interest in them does he surrender to the full grasp of her thoughts; the Captain is not foolish enough to let lust (his own or anyone else's) derail the layers of caution his built in his mind before he knows it's safe.
But now it is, and he scoffs a laugh to see The Ark slip through the unshuttered serving hatch; he'd been planning to freeze the lock and bust in the door, but it appears she's found an even quicker way to get what they both want. By the time he follows she's already half dragging him against her mouth, Jack succumbing all too willingly to the pull of her body and the thick haze of her mind.
Lips and tongue need no words to describe the things he plans to do with her, the Captain's hands making short and busy work of the buttons of her pants even while the rest of her generous curves fit against the hard line of his body. "It ain't the sea but it's a great view," he rumbles, suddenly parting just enough to turn her to brace against the serving hatch, the endless blue of the Arclight a bright panorama before them.
From behind her, Jack paints a line of greedy kisses along the soft column of her neck, sliding down her pants and evidently feeling little need for foreplay given the hours of teasing already steaming the air between them.
fight so dirty but you love so sweet talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
The Ark doesn’t waste time on either of their shirts. There are nights when she wants every inch of Jack uncovered, when pleasure is something to be drawn out until she’s drenched in every sensation he can give her, but this isn’t one of them. This is hunger stripped of ceremony, an itch sharpened by hours of promises and possessive touches until everything else has become scenery. "I’d drag you into the sea myself if you hadn’t been green a few hours ago," she tells him with a cunning smile, breath catching as his mouth works along her neck. The thought of having him in the water still opens something vast and aching inside her, but she won’t gamble with an infection the fountain has only just washed away. This cramped booth will serve perfectly well, especially with the Arclight spread before them and Jack hot against her back.
She turns beneath his hands and braces herself against the serving hatch, drinking in the glittering reach of the sea even as the shores of her thoughts crowd with him. Every kiss, every drag of his fingers, every inch of pressure behind her sends another wave breaking through her mind, until there is scarcely room for anything beyond the shape of what she wants. The Ark pushes her hips back against the hard line of him beneath his clothes, deliberately grinding into him as a warm breath spills from her lips. "Gods, I want you to fuck me, Jack."
One hand remains planted against the counter while the other slips between her thighs, ghosting a finger across her clit and letting the answering rush flare freely against his magic. She knows he will feel the ricochet of it as clearly as she does, knows exactly what pouring that pleasure into his mind will do to whatever restraint he has left, and the smile curving against her next breath is pure provocation.
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
The grind of her ass against him drags a muffled groan from Jack's throat where his lips continue to write poetry against her throat, his hips tilting forward of their own accord. "I've never been one to deny you what you want," he mutters, mouth dragging against the shell of her ear enough for her to hear the sharp hitch of his breath the moment her fingers ghost across her clit, the flare of pleasure dragging at his senses like a rogue wave fighting to claim his footing.
Allowing her the freedom to touch herself as he unbuckles his belt, the soft hush of waves against the sand already starts to flicker with the pulse of her heartbeat in his mind, her desire like a craving that refuses to be ignored. The Captain has no intention of wasting time, luckily, swiftly freeing himself from his pants and fitting himself between her thighs, one hand dropping to her hips and the other twisting, gently for now, into the scarlet cascade of her hair.
With eyes gone dark as a sea in a storm, Jack teases himself against her slick heat for a beat or two, the thick, hard length of him little more than a suggestion or a promise. The next second has him sheathing himself inside her though, drawing her down against him as he thrusts up, fingers gripping her curls more tightly already. "Spread your legs," he hisses, clearly having no intention of being gentle.
fight so dirty but you love so sweet talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
Anticipation races through The Ark as Jack’s grip firms in her hair and at her hip, every point of contact carrying the certainty of a hand that has known how to command her long before she ever possessed flesh. For all her headstrong autonomy, all the ways she delights in choosing her own direction now, it is still Jack who has captained her through the finest moments of her existence. Gods, she loves the way he sets their course when he decides exactly where and how he means to take her.
His teasing has a low moan gathering in her throat, but the first hard thrust steals it apart into a startled gasp. His name follows louder, breaking from her lips and carrying through the open hatch toward the sand and sea as cleanly as sound travelling over open water. "Fuck," she breathes, satisfaction flooding through her only to be swallowed almost immediately by the demand for more. The feeling of him against her, the possession in his hands and the pressure of his body behind hers, is enough to turn the waters of her mind rough and ravenous.
She obeys without hesitation, shifting her feet wider before leaning farther against the ledge. The new angle gives him all the leverage he could want while drawing her deliberately against the fist tangled in her hair, sharpening the pull until pleasure runs bright along her scalp. Her fingers tighten against the counter, hips pressing back into him with an impatient invitation that makes clear she has no interest in gentleness either.
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
