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!
It’s been awhile, a long while, since she has seen the devil.
And she decides that perhaps it might be important to tell him a portion of her exciting news and to make use of the safehouse that she had helped Sam put together with the help of Wessex and Bastien. She sends a note to him in the near hours of dawn, uncertain of where it goes to meet him, but it all points to the same. ‘Meet at the Safehouse, Midnight. – R” She imagines it doesn’t need anything else, and the scrawled, near royally perfected R acronym should be enough for him to figure it out. If not, she’s underestimated him, and she highly doubts that she would.
But she gives no inclination in the meeting, deciding that perhaps the vagueness of it might intrigue him enough to join her. And when midnight nears, looming overhead, she slips into the Safehouse, sliding the cube out of the way that blocks the door before replacing it – rather not having anyone randomly happening upon it and finding it. And besides, he’s Ascended, he can move the damn cube himself, too.
Thanks to no longer feeling the cold, she doesn’t come dressed with much – a favorite of hers, a drooping neckline dressed in dark silks and leather. And her hair is cut above her shoulders, far shorter than he had seen her last. She aims for the surprise, the most, out of this. It’s the little things that keep her happy. And as she makes her way into the basement, she fluffs a few of the blankets along the bed, before choosing the one beside the makeshift shine, sprawling along it like a cat getting comfortable – and then she waits for the inevitable.
Rexanna might have heard the mutter from upstairs - a what the sweet fuck is this - as Lucas discovered safehouse, trapdoor and cube. He obviously had better things to do when it came to the construction of the place, so he was almost completely unaware of its existence. But when he'd received a note from Bastien's sweetheart, knowing they were to be married soon but equally remembering a night not so long ago in Lily's bedroom, of course the devil wasn't going to miss it.
He slipped into the safehouse like a shadow, eyes piercing the darkness easily as he took in the beds, the chairs, the shrine... and Rex. Leaning casually against the doorway, with green eyes flashing through the shadows to take her in fully, he raised an eyebrow.
"Pet, you did not have to invite me to a shack in the middle of nowhere if you wanted to say hello," he drawled. "I've a safehouse of my own. And it's a lot nicer than this." Difficult for it not to be, with Ezra around.
“Pet...” She hears at first as her sapphire gaze meets his in the dark, sprawling out further before her lips quirk in a small smirk. She wants to tell him momentarily that he can take that nickname and shove it somewhere up his ass; but she refrains, holding herself into control as she focuses in on him and the rest of his words. A snort leaves her, a hint of a wrinkle of her nose before she pats the bed beside her, looking every inch like a flapper girl in the twenties — before she sighs somewhat contently.
“I’d have thought you wanted to see the work I put into this place for you all.” She retorts, keeping up appearances, a pout crossing her face as she takes a pale arm to gesture to the shrine she had helped make. All the bits and pieces are there (cubes and spheres of an onyx black hue), the mural behind it a show of all of their faces, and hers included.
Sapphire eyes skate back to him before she rolls her shoulders in a light shrug. “But I suppose if that’s too boring, I can spark some entertainment.” She drawls, leaning back against the pillows briefly in a flare of the dramatics, a firework in her hand sparking to life and sizzling within her palm. Her brand now in full view within the small amount of flickering light, an addition that hadn’t been there before when he had met her collarbones with hungry kisses and tempting teeth.
The show is purely for her own entertainment, and she relishes in it. Perhaps her fiancé has rubbed off on her in more ways than one. But… Perhaps the Penumbra simply enjoys fucking with people a lot more than she had the ability to do before.
Rexanna patted the bed next to her and Lucas didn't need to be told twice, sauntering over to sink down onto the bunk, not that it made the room look any better. Luckily Rex was there for that, though the Ascended did notice that her usually ethereal beauty was somewhat lacking. Not that he wanted to bring that up just now. He arched an eyebrow as she spoke, dutifully taking in the safehouse and the shrine and declining to mention how he was only really an aficionado of the Voice insofar that it got him what he wanted. (That wasn't really the sort of thing one spread around).
Then, of course, he took in the little details so gorgeously put on display for him - the brand, her face nestled among the other Ascended, all in a twilit glow of a firework. "Why, Rexanna," Lucas almost purred, turning a wicked grin on her as he leant back on one hand. "Say it isn't so. That sweet blood, all gone from your beautiful neck? Woe is me."
She doesn’t have to ask twice for him to join her, and she scoots over just enough to give him room, yet remain splayed out among the blankets. She watches him keenly with her gaze, watches him as he looks around the room and the painting, the makeshift shrine, and everything else, until his emerald gaze lands on her once more and he purrs to her. “Lucas, you wound me.” She retorts with a quiet hum of a laugh.
But she leans forward just a bit to grin at him, to show him her fangs before she withdraws again, just enough to lay back in the pillows. “But you caught me. Looks like my fireworks are all mine, sorry if you enjoyed them while you had them.” A smirk crossed her face again as she glances to him, her voice a chime laced with amusement. “Abandoned and Ascended, rolled into one. Quite the feat, wouldn't you say?” She says, pulling her slightly scarred hands in front of her and sparking another small flickering light.
The fangs only sealed the deal, confirming everything Lucas had assumed, and he watched Rexanna carefully as she leant back once more to arrange herself attractively amongst the blankets and the pillows. "Hardly wounding, wouldn't you say? It is a shame. Luckily, the Ascended way also suits you very well. I notice that our lady has eradicated all your other gods-given gifts." Because it had to be magical, the aura of beauty that she had emanated for so long.
"Oh quite a feat indeed," he crooned obligingly, nodding and smiling at her. "I imagine you, my dear, at the apple of the Voice's eye, to retain your abilities so. What made you take the leap?"
She orients herself among the pillows, sapphire eyes slipping toward Lucas when he speaks, a quirk of a smile creeping on the corners of her lips. “Ah, yes, I imagine Frey wouldn’t appreciate their blessed child to be Ascended. Besides, maybe I missed my brand and the ability to see the blood on my fingers.” She hums thoughtfully, before she leans toward him — extending a hand to trace along his arm should he let her.
“Oh, you know. Power.” She purrs with an almost wicked smirk. She contemplates telling him the truth, but thinks better of it. It’s better this way, and far more fun. She sits up, then, just enough to prop herself up and fold her arms before her. “I’ve always had one foot in the dark, might as well make it two.”
Oh, obviously he let her. As if he was going to miss that opportunity after already sampling just what Rexanna was made of. So what if he couldn't feel and react as he had done in the room at Lily's boudoir - he could still remember well enough.
"There's nothing quite like it, it's true," he drawled as she spoke about the sight of blood on one's fingers, orienting himself to look at her properly, a mix of curiosity and anticipation on his face.
Power? A cliche to be sure, but one that Lucas understood very well indeed. "Well the darkness is very happy to have you, I am sure," he said. "But why invite me here?"
There’s a light smirk that graces her features as her fingertips trail his arm. She remembers Lily’s party, she remembers it vividly, even if it does little to affect her, anymore. But her fingers continue to trace and trail until they reach his shoulder, folding into the fabric when he drawls to her, turning himself to look upon her better. Her sapphire gaze slips slowly from his lips to his eyes, a test, a tease, waiting for the right moment.
Until he goes and nearly shatters it by asking why, and she raises a dark brow to him. She wants to tell him she might be a favorite now, a project to have never been done before, with such success as this. But instead, she pauses her hand with a slight pout. “To show you.” She huffs as if she’s pouting, pulling away, pulling her hand back to her side as she folds it along her stomach leisurely.
“Besides, I’m to be married soon, you know.” She hums thoughtfully, sapphire gaze sliding back over toward him.
Ah, but if only Rexanna knew the little secret to Lily's bedroom - then perhaps she would be more eager to find another place to meet, rather than this pokey little safehouse. Then again, she could make anywhere look good, ethereal beauty or not. He let out a dark little laugh as she pouted so gloriously, one of his hands fluttering to his chest as if to still his non-beating heart. "No offence intended, madam," he assured her, smirking and letting the hand drop again.
"Married, hm? And what - does that mean no more wonderful strolls together in the ruins? No more trysts in a mutual friend's boudoir?" Lucas chuckled. "Truly, the world is a darker place for that." But they could give her one hell of a send off while he was here, if that was what she wanted. And he got the feeling she did, hence his being there in the first place.
Oh, whatever he thought was to happen, he was very far off the mark. But she enjoys the game, and she had asked him to teach her. Only… she knows he didn’t plan so much in this way. So when she pouts and he feigns no offense, she can’t help but to smile lightly toward him, an incline of his head in response.
But when he asks what being married means, she lets him list it all out before her fanged smile grows a bit brighter. She sits up more fully, to hover over him briefly with that sickly sweet smile of hers as she tilts her head to him. “Mmm, I think it means we can do exactly that. Except…” She trails off a bit thoughtfully, aiming to swing a leg over him to keep him beneath her, hands reaching for his chest at first, before one trails to his neck and her thumb strokes his cheekbone. Her fingernails rake and trace gently at first before they grow stronger.
“Except it means that I will be holding the reigns.” She tells him, a sort of soft change to her previous demeanor. “It means that you will not fuck any of it up.” Her tone grows a bit more wicked, as her hands drift toward his chest, spreading out her hands in the shape of wings along his sternum. Maybe it’s a dark confession that she recalls his stories of his own wings, but she smirks as her hands alight in a sparkler in each palm, the heat from it aiming to burn his chest in the shape of her hands, a brand of wings for added measure of her new found darkness. A warning.
“It means that I will kill you.” She tells him, oddly calm, hands back to normal as she reaches to cup his face. “So don’t make me.”
Her smile was too sweet, and Lucas's eyes narrowed as she swung a leg over him, the devil leaning back on both hands now to gaze up at her. Unbeknownst to him, he had unintentionally given her a perfect canvas with which to paint her picture, exposing his chest. "Oh?" he asked, head tilting as her hands explored his neck, as her fingers stroked at his cheek. No, he didn't believe this charade any longer, but that didn't mean he felt anything to fear from Rexanna. (More fool him, as he would find out shortly).
"Will you, now? That didn't seem to be the case before," he said, a dark smile lighting up his face - he recalled with perfect clarity, in fact, the sound of her pleasure, the happy submission, the taste of her on his lips and his tongue. But her tone had changed, and Lucas had time to feel puzzled, for his expression to turn mildly confused... before the world between them lit up and sparked, and sizzled, and burned.
Of course he felt no pain, but the guttural instinct to run from fire was as ingrained in him now as Ascended as his affinity for it had been as the devil. Flinching back with nowhere to go, the scent of burning fabric and searing flesh soon filled the air between them, and Lucas had no choice but to look up into Rexanna's face as it happened, as he was branded by her her hands. The same hands that came back to cup his cheeks.
He flashed her a fanged grin. "But of course," he all but whispered. "You might even say I'm yours, my dear."
She almost hums in amusement at his comment, knowing exactly where his thoughts had drifted — she would be lying if her own hadn’t drifted there too. But she smirks to him, tells him her rules, brands him to the scent of burnt skin and fabric in the shape of the wings he’d lost, as well as a marker of her own freedom.
She is nobody’s pet, and he’d be sure to remember that.
She watches him flinch back with nowhere to go, legs tightening slightly around him to keep him there until her picture is painted. And then she cups his face, seeing the fanged grin and the whisper. Languidly, she leans over him until her nose nearly touches his, one hand still cupping his jaw. It hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but her as Ascended and Abandoned gave her enough power that she could ensure the safety of herself. And that was all she wanted.
Sapphire eyes look down to him with a sharp gleam like a predator, a saccharine smile crossing her lips. “Good.” She hums to him, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. If he thought to harm her or those she loved, she’d have no issue striking him down. She hopes her message came across as such.
She leans back now, to view the brand as she tears the fabric away, inspecting with a soft smile. “A little reminder for you, Lucas, sweetheart. Next time it’ll be that handsome face of yours.” She gives him a fanged smirk, sliding off of him and back into the blankets and pillows, gesturing to the entrance to the safe house. “Unless you have questions, you may go.” She tells him, an air of authority to her voice of her time as a queen, eyes drifting back to him in silent question as she props herself up onto her side.
He could feel his body rushing to repair the impossible damage, could feel his reserves draining rapidly in response to the internal cry of alarm, but even so he couldn't take his eyes off Rexanna. Like an avenging angel, like some dark star descended upon him, had he been able to feel the pain in his chest he surely would have relished it as a gift. As it was, her lips upon his cheek and the command that rang through the air would have to do.
Shrugging out of the remnants of his shirt, the burns were a stark butterfly on his chest, a brand that he could simultaneously loathe and appreciate. "But of course," he said softly, rising to his feet as he was released; it was strange, to be aware of the extent of his injuries, but not have to walk as if to accommodate them. "Until next time, Rexanna. You know where to find me."
Feeling (dare he say it) impressed rather than livid, the devil went on his merry way out into the cold night.
