What do you get when two ruthless assassins raise their daughter travelling through the wildest reaches of Caido? Take one look at Theea and you'll get a pretty good idea. Cheerful and tenacious in equal measure, and curious beyond all else, she began her journey on a mission to find those her mother once called family. And find them she did, soon rubbing elbows with demigods, leaders and even ghosts from the past. Her determination is resolute, her thirst for knowledge unmatched. We can't wait to see where her next adventure takes her!
Congratulations, Theea!
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!
Well, the carnival had been a success – and with a job well done, Pierce has done nothing more but enjoy all the time he’s got to himself now. Without much else to do but simply observe, he realizes that venturing out of Stormbreak was likely a good choice, but fuck it was comfortable here. Why not stay for a little while longer, indulge in the sights and the views, the liquor and the food, before he has to go remind everyone exactly what he could do.
Seems like at the carnival, there were a couple of attendee’s that had thought that Pierce was everything but patient. He supposes it makes sense (and admittedly relishes in the fear his very presence brings), but he also finds it exhausting. So much so that he’s content to linger here in the bustling White Hart, sat in the back booth in the shade of the flickering oil lamps, slouched, with a large mug of beer (his eighth) cradled in his hand as his legs sit propped on the table.
Curious, but appearing as though he’s bored, he watches yet another man ask the pretty brunette at the bar to buy her another drink or see if she’ll dance with him. Another denial has him mentally marking it with a quiet snort to himself, downing a portion of the beer.
After the carnival, Thal had been feeling a mix of emotions about everything - particularly about her own response to a certain shadowy demigod - but rather than address whatever strange emotions might be swirling deep, deep inside, she did what she always did: deflect. If she was too busy losing herself in other senses and emotions, maybe she could convince herself that the others didn't exist. It's why she'd followed Pierce from the game, looking to distract and maybe insight some jealousy. However, when he'd somehow slipped from her in the crowd, she'd had to settle for other options, like visiting a pale Ancient to start a fight. Was it her best idea? Perhaps not. And maybe that's why she finds herself in Stormbreak again where few people might know or recognize her, a lingering fury in her chest.
People notice that kind of thing, the simmer of anger on pale skin, the glint of danger in her blue eyes, the staccato clip of her heeled boots. It's enough to attract a multitude of leering eyes - and Thal basks in it. Her hips and tail sway in unison like a seductive melody as she enters the bar, throwing a fanged grin in the direction of a tall man looming by the door. He runs his gaze down her appreciatively, catching the tightness of her leather pants, the low plunge of her black blouse, and the plethora of daggers strapped across her body. She doesn't stop to indulge him, preferring that someone chase her tonight as she makes her way to the bar, knowing he'll eventually follow.
Thal arrives just in time to witness a rejection gone wrong, a man digging his fingers into the arm of a pretty brunette like he might drag her to the dance floor instead. Some women might like a rough hand on occasion (herself included), but this girl looks like it might be her worst nightmare come true, eyes wide with fear as she tries to pull out of his grasp. The man just whispers words of encouragement, talking about how much 'she'll like it.'
Already at the tipping edge of violence, Thal doesn't need a lot of encouragement to reach for his hand, her grip red with heat as she places it over his. He lets out a yell that draws the eyes of a few nearby patrons, but she doesn't look away, a wicked gleam in her eyes that goes beautifully with the sharp flash of her fangs. Still holding his hand, her voice drips with vicious delight. "Find someone who's willing, or I'll be the one you're dancing with." Face pale, the man whimpers a little and nods his head, finally ripping his red, blistering hand free to cradle against his chest. She can smell the singed flesh when he shuffles away, abandoning his drink at the bar in lieu of escape. Smart.
Stepping forward, she barely spares the girl a glance (or the others blatantly staring at her), leaning against the bar as she downs the random amber liquid. It slides down her throat without so much as a wince, and she raises a finger to the bartender. "Whiskey."
He does have an uncanny ability to just vanish. Maybe it had been on purpose, maybe it had not been. Either way, its very clear that she doesn’t see him immediately as she enters. So Pierce watches the show – because Thal was perfect for giving a nice performance. He’d known that already. Still, the mug of the beer hides the smirk on his face at the display of the man’s outrage, the too-warm hand the Captain lays on his arm to get him to release the pretty brunette.
Waiting easily, because one the threat has been established, Thalassa has the largest berth around her in comparison to the rest of the White Hart. Pierce bides his time, watching as she downs the random amber liquid before making her order. And he watches as the bartender immediately gets to work, filling a glass for her in the hopes she doesn’t turn those fiery hands back on him.
Pierce has very little qualms about the fear Thalassa instills in the patrons for the night, however, boots dropping to the floor from the table they were propped on. Standing with his mug in hand, he downs the rest and sidles in right beside Thalassa – quite close to her, enough that the muscle of his chest could brush against her shoulder as he slides the empty glass over toward the bartender. “Something stronger.” Comes the baritone request demand. “Wasn’t sure you’d be back so soon.” He trills playfully, sliding his gaze over toward her with that same small half hidden and arrogant smirk. “Didja miss me?”
The scurrying of the bartender doesn't go unnoticed, and Thal taps a light finger against the wood as he rushes to pour his best whiskey. His hand tremors lightly as he slides her the glass, making sure to stay well out of range. She's bringing it to her lips when she feels a familiar presence at her side, one she wouldn't have easily forgotten even after so much time. It sends an excited thrill down her spine, but she doesn't immediately acknowledge him, taking a long swig of her drink while he orders his own.
The deep sound of his voice settles comfortably in her ear, dark and mysterious in the thrum of the bar. She dangles her glass before her, casual in his presence like it didn't make her heart beat a little faster to have his solid chest pressed against her. Her shoulders come up in a shrug that's almost accusing. "Me neither; since I didn't really have a reason to." Maybe there's some misguided bitterness there after her last few days, or maybe she's a little annoyed that he hadn't sought her out. Either way, her tone is flat, like he's just any other man who approaches her every other night.
She can practically feel the smirk on his face, knowing that if she looked at it, she might forget any annoyances in favor of something far more enticing. However, she tilts her head to look at the shifting of the liquor in her glass, her cascade of dark waves parting around her horns as she says mischievously, "I've been keeping myself entertained." As Pierce has already noticed now, before, and maybe even at the carnival, Thal is quite good at finding ways to solve her own boredom; always the independent woman. To remind him of that fact, she doesn't give in to his tease, choosing to play hard to get after so many seasons of silence. "Why? Should I?" She finally looks to him, a playful 'disinterest' in her eyes that's completely unfazed by his looming proximity.
It’s a highway that goes both ways – he hadn’t sought her out and she hadn’t sought him out. And while she suffers through the bitterness of it, Pierce is indifferent at best. He’s been busy, you see. “And yet you’re here.” Comes the low rumble of his voice, the lingering tone easily slipped into as he watches the bartender slip forward to give him a glass of Caido’s equivalent to Everclear. Glancing at the glass that looks as though it has nothing more than water within, he knows better given that it’d come from the top shelf.
He watches her hair part where her horns sit, as she doesn’t look back at him. It gives him a perfect view of what might be going on in that mind of hers, enough that the bruiser nods and snorts a little. “Yeah, I can tell.” He says simply, matter of fact-ly, because he’d noticed the game she was trying to play while he was playing his own. And he’s pretty sure he could squish the little shadowy demigod with a finger if he wanted to.
But he doesn’t, not yet anyway. Not until the kid starts to become a real pain in his ass.
She meets his gaze finally and his smirk deepens, her ocean waves for eyes harboring disinterest, but only partially so. Breaking his attention from her to down a good portion of the strong liquor, the bruiser sets the glass down before he looks back to her. “Seems to me like you’re tryin’ to get my attention.” He admits with his own playfully disinterested tone, large shoulders shrugging. “So, you’ve got it for the night. What kinda trouble are you really lookin’ for?”
Just as she'd suspected, his smirk pushes aside any bitterness or animosity in light of the heat sparking between where his chest presses against her shoulder. Thal raises an 'unimpressed' eyebrow, her voice purring with amusement at his presumption. "Aren't you the arrogant one?" And as if getting his attention had been the furthest thing from her mind, she looks away, raising her glass to her lips again. It's a teasing dance of acknowledgement, a give and take that tells him she wants him in pursuit.
At his question, she lets out a playfully dramatic hum that sings through the air, thick with suggestion. "Hmm. The kind that I won't easily forget - something that'll leave me breathless." She almost says the last word at a whisper, drawing him in as her head tilts again, exposing the pale length of her neck as it slopes down to her chest. She lets Piece get a good look before she turns to glance up through the dark curtain of her lashes at him, a feline smile on her face. "You have any ideas? Something that might cure my boredom?"
Had it been, Thalassa? The furthest thing from your mind?
Her comment has him nodding, quite proud and pleased to be considered the arrogant one. After all, he did the best at whatever he did. He excelled constantly. Taking the sword from Ronin like it had been a child with a lollipop. Teaching Flora and Jack a lesson (because apparently death means very little here, much to his annoyance) by killing them in the process.
Pierce often got results, and typically they were the results he wanted.
Her tone is suggestive and Pierce picks up on it as he takes another sip of the sharp liquor, still not quite feeling the effects of it yet (if he ever might), and lets his gaze linger along the pale column of her neck as he shifts slightly where he’s standing, brushing the broad portion of where his torso meets his shoulder against her own as she peers up at him with a knowing look.
It’s a game, though, all of it – and he hides his smirk behind yet another sip of the clear liquor with a shrug of the opposite shoulder. “Seems like you might be looking for something to make your plaything jealous. How’d it work at the carnival, by the way?” He raises a brow pointedly avoiding a direct answer just yet.
She doesn't miss the avoidance of her question or the brush of his chest when he shifts, the light friction that's like a starting bell to their game. Her hum comes again around the rim of her glass, a tune that sings of the praise one might give a child for figuring out an easy math problem. "Hmm. So you're not just muscles." She gently lifts a hand to rap her knuckle against his pec in emphasis, not even bothering to look up with the movement, like she doesn't care what he thinks of her 'plaything' or what she might have been up to since their last meeting. It doesn't mean she doesn't notice the firmness of his rock-hard chest or the heat it emits against her finger.
Swallowing a large gulp of her whiskey, she runs her tongue over her lips and fangs, slow and sensual. Then she flashes Pierce another fanged grin, teasing mischief glinting in her eyes. "I don't kiss and tell." Although, truthfully, she hasn't sought out Vesper after their exchange, letting the interaction simmer for a while before she reinitiates contact. She fully intends to let him wonder about what chaos she might be getting up to with Pierce, because even if he hadn't been jealous at the carnival, she plans to leave him alone long enough for the emotion to emerge. A foreplay in its own right.
That'll be her fun for later. For now, she has a game to win, and Thal leans farther into the bar top, the length of her spine stretching like the casual stretch of a cat; but she knows how it accentuates her every curve, the tight black of her clothes hugging her like smoke and shadows that might easily fall away with a subtle breeze. She knows that more than a few men catch the movement, their eyes slipping over her figure, although she only needs to catch one. Just for good measure, she pops out her hip towards Pierce, letting it brush against him as she draws another nonchalant sip from her glass like she isn't actively playing with fire.
“Nope.” He says equally as confident and arrogant as he’d answered everything before. As her hand lifts to rap her knuckles against his chest, she’ll find it hard and warm beneath her touch, the light lift of his breath through it as the low baritone of a snort leaves him. His gaze flits back toward the bartender briefly, ensuring he’s keeping busy, Pierce’s electric blue stare returns to Thal – because he doesn’t miss much in the time he observes everything around him – spotting the way she tries to toy with him with the slow dance of her tongue across her lips.
Ah, but then she’s avoiding his question, too – and that’s a dance the two of them can do easily. “Wonder what he’d think.” Pierce says, not letting it go. Not because he’s jealous – he isn’t. But because he knows very fervently who he is and just how much the majority of Caido would prefer his head on a spike. And for him? That was a certain kind of excitement that nothing else could give him.
She stretches out and Pierce downs the rest of the strong liquor, setting the glass down and tapping with two fingers quite gently but still enough the knock is heard through the bar like a drum. The bartender scurries over, filling his glass before filling Thal’s back up just because she’d taken quite a few sips of it and he doesn’t want to capture her ire either. Smirking to the bartender, Pierce’s attention remains on the clear liquid despite seeing the way she’s trying to toy with him and the others within the White Hart. Not that he thinks it’ll work much, with him as a deterrent and her own actions just moments prior. Still, he indulges in the warm press of her hip against his own and he shifts on his feet to press back against her in turn, silent like a statue, not giving her the kind of chase she seeks but he does give in to her body language.
As much as she likes to think about what might be running through Vesper's mind (or Pierce's at this point) and all the emotions she might be stoking, it's not going to change who she's standing with right now. Because even if Pierce is 'Caido enemy number one,' she hasn't given the Family a reason to want her dead, and she likes to think that she's much more fun to have alive at this moment, with the thrill of danger singing in her veins and the subtle desire in her eyes.
So why should it matter what her 'plaything' thinks about her choice in men?
Shrugging her shoulders, Thal accepts the refill of her drink, knowing it'll take at least two more hefty glasses to get her buzzed. "What I choose to do, and who I do it with, is none of his business - or anyone else's." The smirk of her lips implies that she doesn't let anyone else dictate how or where she finds her amusement, no matter how despicable the source.
Her tail flicks to run along his leg, teasing with barely a hint of effort as she takes another long sip of her whiskey without looking at him. "Why are you so interested? Jealous?" The tone of her voice is almost bored, a slow drawl that doesn't hint at the way she responds to him with a tantalizing shift of her hips, a reminder of where she is. Smirking, she adds, "Or maybe he's more your type?"
Her business is hers, until it isn’t. Until someone starts asking too many questions. “Uh huh.” Pierce says, unconvinced, but letting it lie for the thoughts of what it might be like were she a true friend of the family. Perhaps there’d be more fun to be had — not that the bruiser is looking for any attachments, but it might make everything that much more fun. He stays his hand for the moment, quite literally, snorting to hear her next statement and shift his leg slightly for her tail to brush against more.
“I don’t get jealous.” He says simply, the baritone of his voice quite even, proving that he wasn’t the jealous type. At the mention of Vesper being more his type, he does roll his eyes a little. “I think you’re trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, so.” Comes the low rumble of a purr, a snort, before he angles his head toward her and reaches out with his free hand.
His fingertips brush warmly against the small of her back, trailing up over the blouse to follow her spine, watching for any sign of how his touch might affect her. After a few lingering moments of this gentler touch, his hand wrapping around her hip to tug her into him a little roughly. “I’m not interested in whatever side game you’re trying to play.” But if she’s looking to let off steam, he’s happy to help.
Now it's Thal's turn to sound unconvinced, a low hum flowing between them as she takes another long sip of her drink. The burn tastes sweet on her tongue, mixing with the pleasant purr of his voice as she dangles her glass in a limp hand, watching the remaining liquid swirl in the bottom. "I think you're the one who keeps bringing him up." She doesn't look at him, but she can practically feel another eye roll, knowing that she's the one who started it when she'd pitted them against each other at the carnival.
Thal doesn't pause the slow twisting of her glass as she feels the light hand against her back. She lets the muscles of her spine tense slightly under his touch, a nearly imperceptible arch that makes her tail twitch in its path down his leg to let him know that she notices despite the way she still doesn't look at him, stubborn and enticing. The rough pull of her hip against his doesn't scare her or make her turn either, a small thrill of excitement chiming in her head as she nicks a fang on her smirking lips, like she can already taste the pleasure. "Then let's play a different one." Finally meeting his gaze again, Thal raises an eyebrow in question, as if to ask, 'What's taken you this long?'
“You started it.” He says with a slight shrug, but it doesn’t push him away — not as she curls and curves in all the delightfully delicious ways that he realizes is as much for her and him as it is anyone who may have lingering eyes in the bar that weren’t terrified of getting their arms burnt to a crisp.
He feels the twitch of her tail and he hides the small smirk on his face as he tugs her closer, roughly against his hips and chest. “You wanna play the same one we did before?” The one they’d played ages ago in Torchline’s tide flooding caves? Or was there something new she’d been latching onto lately. It’s been a while, so it’s hard to say.
He does catch the glimpse in her gaze and the meaning beneath it, and he lets his warm hand spread from her hip to slip around under her, flattening against her lower stomach before trailing up a touch. He leans in, dark wild curls brushing against her shoulder as he answers her in that deep baritone of his voice. “I’ve been busy, Thal.” Y’know, just stealing priceless relics and murdering a couple people here and there. Oh, and toss in a random taco party and that about sums it up.
She wiggles her hips slightly against the vice grip of his hand, feeling the pleasantly solid form of him beside her. It's a tease as well as a reminder of what they'd done in those caves - a reminder of what he'd been missing. "Unless you have a different one in mind." Because without the slowly encroaching water, she wonders if he might be able to make the scene quite as thrilling, and as she looks up at him, there's a mischievous glint of challenge in her blue eyes.
Thal follows the path of his hand, the flat of her stomach tensing as she anticipates whatever excitement Pierce might have in mind. Her head turns to press against her shoulder, feeling the brush of his warm breath along the skin of her cheek as her dark hair shifts like ink down her back, writing desire down her spine. Knowledge of his recent activities doesn't change that, a playful smirk on her lips as she purrs, "So I've heard."
