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!
He strokes her hair a bit, his replies rumbling through his chest as he calms and quells the fury and flame that seethes within him. He feels her relax too, and he keeps his eyes closed simply thinking and calming and holding her to him. He only opens his eyes as she tilts her head to look up at him, and he looks down to meet her honey brown gaze with silver eyes that shift from stone, fracturing and melting as she reaches to touch his cheek. As she does, he sighs quietly, tilting his head into her hand and shutting his eyes once more. At her attempt to lighten the mood, there’s a ghost of a smile that creeps along the corner of his lip.
“I am… Very protective.” He responds as though it’s a good enough reason. But her next set of words don’t make sense to him, and he casually ignores it as he leans down and smiles to her, kissing her lips that make the silly face at him. “And I do like you, a lot. I just want you to be safe.” He rumbles, steel gaze softening further, like melted steel as he looks to her and pulls his head away. “But I will work on it.” He tells her, knowing deep down he’s been working on it for nearly 16 years.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
She smiled a little, feeling the tension in his muscles beginning to melt away as he calmed down. For a moment, she let herself fall into her work mode, her calming presence she used with nervous clients surely would help him too. "I can see that now. I'm glad you feel protective of me." she said in a soothing voice, not wanting to chide him for that. There was nothing wrong with wanting to protect that which you cared for - even Frey agreed with that sentiment. As he leaned forward to kiss her, she took the opportunity to lift her other hand to the side of his face as well, raising her hands slightly to gently rub little circles on his temples to help relieve his stress further.
His blunt response surprised her a little, and she blushed a bit. "Being a...thing...and not a specific thing is new to me, so I guess I just didn't realize you felt that deeply already." she said softly, a smile on her lips. "And I am safe. So there is nothing to be upset about, right?" she said. Gently she ran her thumbs over his brows, pressing lightly against pressure points she knew would help relieve his stress. "You don't have to work on all of it, just the bit of lashing at those you care for because you're worried. Be relieved, not angry." she said gently.
"But that is harder to do when you're hungry, and I bet you are. So how about you go sit on the couch, and I'll bring you supper, and you can just relax, okay?" she said sweetly.
The way she talks to him confuses him, it feels almost as though she’s empathizing, but then not? And he thinks on it briefly before he kisses her and her other hand caresses his face and rubs small circles around his temples. And her confusion about the thing they were, causes his eyes to open about half way as he listens to her. “It’s serious enough, just… No titles yet is all.” He explains a bit more roughly, as though it makes complete sense to him. As well as a part of him that thinks it would likely look bad to start dating two days after meeting? But he bites back that retort to listen as she mentions she’s safe, rubbing his face in all sorts of soothing motions.
“You are.” He acknowledges, pulling her in tighter to the hug as though he’s reconciling it with himself. But as she tells him how to work on it, his jaw clenches slightly, a feathering within it as he inhales deeply. “I will try.” He says again. It’s really the best he can do.
But she almost takes the blame and puts it on food, and likewise he feels how exhausted he is and how hungry he is, as he unwraps his arms from around her and nods quietly, moving to sit on the couch. He leans a bit onto the side of it, propping his head up with his hand as he quells himself, drawing quiet, pulling himself so slowly out of the memories that have trapped him.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
He might've been surprised as to her response to his retort - which would have been who cares? Phoebe wasn't exactly concerned with appearances at this point. She had spent so long focusing on them that, for the moment at least, she was content to simply pursued what made her happy. She smiled warmly at him as he explained and she nodded. "Well...that's good to know." she said, rising up on her toes to kiss him softly.
He hugs her tighter and she feels his jaw clench beneath her fingers. "Shhhhhhhhh..." she shushes him gently, thumbs rubbing the joint of his jaw near his ears to make him relax. "Just relax. There is nothing to be upset about. Everything is fine." she said soothingly, trying to coax him back down to a calmed state. But fortunately he took her advice and headed to the couch. That gave her a chance to cut them each a piece of the leftover pie, let Pim back inside, and brew him some medicinal tea. She placed his portion on a tray and brought it to him.
"Here, drink the tea and take this." she said, handing him a small tincture bottle. "It will help you calm down, okay?"
She kisses him and he returns it until his jaw clenched slightly and she reaches up to rub at the tension, and he sighs gently down to her. And he nods to her instruction, doing his best, but it’s not really enough. Not with the memories that plague him, not with the way she’s calm and he feels like he wants to writhe out of his skin. He puts a handle on it, shutting it down for the moment as he moves toward the couch and waits.
And when Phoebe returns, she hands him dinner and tea as well as… what exactly was it? She tells him it’ll calm him down and for a moment he wonders if it will. If the rage within him is too pent up, too volatile to actually find success with it. But he tries, taking it all with a quiet demeanor. The food is great as always, the tea is about the same, but the small tonic tastes bitter and strange as he swallows it. His steel gaze slides over to her then. “What’s in it?” He asks her quietly, wondering what it was and when it’ll take effect, and for how long.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Phoebe sat next to him and set to eating her own portion, allowing the silence between them to remain for the time being. She was thinking on that distant look in his eyes, how he had clearly been present but also not at the same time. She had seen such things before, soldiers with war shock, being prompted to over react to scenarios because of various traumas. She had seen it in clients as well, with particularly violent spouses, who would have nervous breakdowns over the slightest inconvenience that might cause them to lash out. Did Sunjata have such struggles?
She was pulled from her thoughts by his question though, her food mostly untouched, as she looked over at him. "Oh, various herbal remedies that soothe the mind." she said with a small smile. "I usually use it with patient's who have anxiety, but it is also useful for helping people come out of panic attacks or moments of overwhelming anger." she said, not hiding it's purpose from him. "It's really just a more concentrated form of the tea, which is more intended for daily use."
He nods to her as she replies and explains, listening her still not really listening. Half here, half there, recalling shock and fury and rage. Of being too late, of being too much. One day, he might tell her why that is. But for now, the words stray from the tip of his tongue into nothing, into ashes as it burns and keeps him from explaining. And so he doesn’t, instead just looking over at her with a small nod.
”Anxiety…” He rumbles in response. Is this what that was? He hadn’t had someone put a label on it before, it had always just been the way he was. “How long before it works?” He asks, soft silver eyes lingering on her yet still far and away, questions and visions hidden beneath a lead tongue. He hates it when he gets this way, the only way to take his mind off of it were brawls. To slip away into the criminal underground, to fight among them, to draw blood and curse his family name to the heavens, screaming through bloodstained teeth.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
He still seems far away, present, but not. With each passing moment it seems her suspicions are more and more likely. "Are you full?" she asked him as she set aside her own, barely touched plate. She felt a desperate need to coax him out of this headspace. It was clearly clouding his mind, distracting him from the present, pulling him to whatever trauma he bore that brought him to this point.
"Yes. Anxiety. Sometimes it presents as explosive anger." she said calmly, scootching closer to him. She ran her fingers gently across his back, trying to calm him in whatever way she could. Physical contact seemed to help keep him from sliding backwards into his darkened musings. "Well, you're a bigger fellow, so it might take a few minutes. Give it some time." she said gently, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "If you would...I would like you to start drinking this tea twice a day. I really think it would help you." she said, concern evident in her gaze.
His plate is mostly empty, but it sits like a rock in his stomach as he glances to her. He gives her a quiet nod to answer her question, saying nothing as he tries to reel himself in. He muses the anxiety; and for some reason the word just doesn’t feel like enough to him, as though what causes it is far more than just a word. Perhaps that’s why it’s never been uttered to him. She explains, explains the anger and for a moment he nods absentmindedly, thinking back to the streets of brimstone, pits of sand, bruises and blood, gold paid from the surveyors above.
He inhales sharply as she scoots closer, dragging him out of the memory, a light flinch as she leans up to kiss his cheek. And then, she suggests taking preventive measures, something he finds to be a bit unnecessary seeing as he doesn’t know the results of how it will react with him. “We will see how this first round goes.” Its a terrible joke he tries to give her, to jest and return to himself, but his eyes soften further until he seems a bit more here instead of there. “I’m sorry, mooi meisie.” He tells her, hand reaching up to brush her hair back over her ear. His accented voice shifting slightly as he speaks the tongue of home, not thinking anything of it or that he hadn’t before. He typically tries to keep his home and here separate, but the slip perhaps caused by the flooding of memories.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
She tried to not let the reaction bother her, the inhale, the flinch. It did hurt in a way, but she can see he is struggling, she knew this wasn't his typical reaction. It was a silent cry for help, for someone to see the struggle - and see it she did. As he flinches she shushes him softly again, a comforting noise as her fingers run along his back, as one might soothe a child coming out of a nightmare. He wasn't alone. She was right there to help him.
"Well, luck for you, you have a thing with a healer who can tinker with the recipe until it is tailored just for you. Lucky duck." she said lightly, moving the mostly empty plate off of his lap onto the table. She paused a bit at his following statement though, blinking a bit. "What did you call me?" she asked with a small smile. Of course, by now she knew other lands had other languages, and she assumed he slipped into that. "It's okay." she said to his apology, letting her hands run down to his hands. "Why don't I help you relax a bit? It is pretty late after all." she said, standing.
He inhales deeply, feeling her fingers run along his back. Here, here, here. He seems to mentally tell himself, quelling his fear one second as a time. Is it the medicine? It might be, he can’t tell the difference. But what he can do is give a small breathy laugh in response. “I do.” He confirms, head dropping forward slight as she rubs her hands along his spine. But she stands to take his plate and pauses as he speaks to her. And he looks up to blink at her in confusion, not realizing he’s slipped. “Pretty girl?” He questions, as though he’s said it in the standard tongue.
He doesn’t know when he said his home language, the lines blurring together.
But she reaches for his hands and he lets her take them, pushing himself up off the couch to her. “Okay.” He says softly, waiting for her to lead to way, however she’s decided to try and cheer him up.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
She smiled a little, glad to see his humor coming back. Testing, she leaned forward and gently kissed his cheek again as he tilted his head forward. "You will protect me in your way, and I will protect you in mine. You don't have to bear it all on your own. That is the wonderful thing about having a thing - you've a partner to help you along, right?" she said to him sweetly. As much as he brought her happiness and feelings of self worth, as much as he gave back to her confidence that had been lost, she wanted to bring him peace. And though she was protecting herself a bit, burned once and so unwilling to dive headfirst into love again so soon, it gleamed in her honeyed eyes as she smiled at him.
Phoebe grinned when he translated, seeing his confusion though, she laughed. "Well, thank you, but that isn't what you said. You said like...Moy Mazie?" she said giggling a bit, butchering the pronunciation. "Was that in a language from where you came from?" she asked.
Fortunately he follows, and she leads him up the stairs to... well really it was their room at this point. Once she closed the door, she turned back to him and smiled, carefully unbuttoning his shirt. "Now, don't go getting any ideas so soon." she said with a light blush and small laugh. "But this will be easier if you are undressed."
She speaks and he listens, it registers, it adjusts. A brow quirks at her as she says she’ll protect him, wondering from whatever for. (It doesn’t register to him he has problems other than a short temper) And he looks to her as he translates, brow quirking further as she recalls what he did say. Steel gaze widens for a second before he nods. The ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Mooi Meisie.” He reiterates, slowly for her to try and pronounce it right.
“It was my family’s language.” He offers unhelpfully, a small shrug. But before he can think on it long, she’s leading him up the stairs to their bedroom, and he follows her with a slightly raised brow. “Don't get any ideas?” He thinks, eyes softening as she laughs lightly and unbuttons his shirt. “I’ll try not to…?” He says uncertainly, head tilting as he helps her unbutton his shirt to shed it to the floor, hands slipping to the belt in his pants, eyes flickering toward hers as questions brim underneath.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Phoebe's brows furrow and her lips purse as she tries to get her mouth around the odd syllables. "Moooy Mimsy?" she says, giggling, knowing it is completely wrong but hoping it will brighten his mood to hear her fumble. "Well, however it is said, you can call me that whenever you like." she said with a smile.
Of course, he followed her upstairs then, and he lends a hand in getting his shirt off. "Why do I get the feeling that that is a lie?" she said teasingly. Maybe it was because he seemed to lead to a very idea laden place as often as he could. Not that she minded. It was a nice change of pace from what she had been used to. His hands drifted to his belt, and so did hers, helping him remove that layer of clothing as well. Once he was just in his shorts she smiled, and leaned up to kiss him gently. "Take those off too and go lay on your stomach on the bed, I'll be right there." she promised.
As he did so, she went to one of her storage cabinets and pulled out a few scented oils, all infused with herbs and florals that had scents to help calm and soothe. She placed them in a small pot, then allowed them to warm over the fire. While they did, she removed her own dress, so she was just in her little shorts, knowing the extra fabric would just get in the way in a little bit... and that Jata was likely to take it off as it was. With the warmed aromatic oils she returned to the bed, climbing up and straddling his hips, setting the pot on the bedside table. Carefully she coated her hands in the oil before running them along his back, using her own body weight to gently press into his muscles, using her knowledge of the various muscle groups to work out any tension he was holding from before.
