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!
Loren had, after a great deal of deliberation, decided that (despite Remi’s amulets and reassurances that the Launceleyn didn’t need to get bit by the Ascended) he needed to at least try. It would provide them one more potential way to combat the monsters come LongNight. More importantly, however, he knew that he needed to get over his hang-ups around touch and being bitten, and yes, the pleasure that apparently accompanied the Ascended’s fangs. And there was only one Ascended he trusted enough—and knew, really, since Wessex hardly counted—to help him work through his issues.
So he’d sent a note to Rexanna, asking her to meet him out on the Bone Bridge. For some reason, even after his return, the Launceleyn maintained a strange fondness for the hidden and out of the way places of the Hollowed Grounds. Perhaps it was simply because he’d spent so much time in them during his lost year that they still held a strange comfort, even now. In this particular case, it was also practical: the strange white substance the comprised the bridge and gave it its name probably wasn’t flammable, especially covered in snow as it was.
For once, the sky was clear, and the moon and the stars provided ample light for the summoner to see by. He was waiting directly in the center of the expanse, a dark spot against the white snow and stone. Indeed it was hard to tell he was even a person, bundled up as he was in a heavy fur-lined cloak and thick leathers, hood drawn tightly against his cheeks. While he waited for Rexanna to show up—well, hopefully, since she did have a wedding to plan and might not have time for someone who was barely a passing acquaintance—he gazed up at the sky. It was late, so Astra was asleep at home. That meant he’d have to make do with the stars twinkling above and not the luxere who’d quickly become the light in his life.
Usually, the Penumbra isn’t too surprised by receiving notes. Since her Ascension, she finds it’s one of the easiest ways for people to get ahold of her. But it’s who it comes from that does manage a bit of surprise. Her new friend, (acquaintance?), inviting her to the bone bridge. So of course she goes, under the guise of the stars and night — her parasol hung around her arm to add some extra protection if she couldn’t handle a surprise on her own. She trusts Loren, but everyone else with the blight and the finger pointing, she finds it hard to be trustworthy or much anymore.
She knows who her friends are, at least.
Slipping through the streets toward the bone bridge, dressed in dark furs to help blend into the darkness, aside from the paleness of her face that extends up from the dark fabrics, followed by her short dark hair with flecks of snow drifting into them. She doesn’t produce much body heat anymore, and the snow seems to collect and sit, small little piles along her shoulders and arms as she gets closer.
There’s a bright fanged smile on her face as she regards Loren, before she looks to the starry sky and moonlight. “Loren!” She greets him with cheer, sapphire eyes drifting back to the librarian. “I’m glad you invited me out, I wanted to thank you for the help with the wedding.” She chimes, coming to a stop beside him.
At the sound of Rexanna’s voice, Loren turned, a shy smile lingering on his lips. ”Rexanna! You came. I uh, wasn’t sure you would, given how busy you must be.” And given that he wasn't sure they were friends. Clearly he was pleased that she’d actually come out given how little information he’d provided in his note. Still, he was pretty busy himself, and hadn’t had time to draft a full letter. Besides, some things were better said face to face. That was probably true for most of what he wanted to talk about tonight.
As the blue-eyed woman thanked him both for inviting her out and for his assistance with the wedding, he shrugged, embarrassed, but touched, by her gratitude. ’You’re welcome. But it was the least I could do, really. How’re you feeling? About the wedding, that is.” It was rapidly approaching, a bright spot in the midst of the darkness of Deepfrost. The shadow of the blight just made it sweeter that Rexanna and Bastien were getting married. The people of the Hollowed Grounds and the Greatwood needed to find what joy they could, with everything going on.
Actually, the summoner didn’t just ask Rexanna out here to test out whether others could summon the Spark Bird. There was something he had to offer, something that Remi had mentioned that Rexanna might be interested in. ”Speaking of the wedding, I uh, learned something recently.” Rubbing his hands together in a nervous gesture, he peered at the bride-to-be, wondering how she’d react to Loren’s offer. ”I was meeting with Remi, and he said that healing magic could get rid of scars, sometimes, and ah, I was thinking about that and uh…” Trailing off, he gave her a sheepish look. ”Your ah...collarbone.” It was easier to say that then to bring up the brand; though the summoner hadn’t commented on it in their previous encounters, he’d obviously noticed it. Hopefully the blue-eyed woman would understand what the Launceleyn was saying.
She returns his greeting with her own bright grin, and a light shrug. “I always make time for friends.” She informs him with a wider smile — because that’s what he was quickly becoming, and she wanted to be sure he wasn’t getting the wrong impression by any of it. After all, he had helped plan her wedding, after all! Still, she settles in beside him as the snow drifts by on a wind she can’t feel, before she rolls her shoulders in another small shrug. “Excited, really. It’ll be a way to paint a happier image over my previous one.” A small admittance, but there nonetheless.
Her attention and body turns fully toward him as he speaks, a brow slightly raised in a silent question as to what he’s learned, waiting for more amazement and awe. But what he tells her makes her pause, and she considers it for a moment, a wide smile on her face. “That’s incredible…” She comments at first, turning her head away from him as she fiddles with the ring on her finger in thought. “I think… I don’t know if I’m ready to part with it yet? Frey took it away for a time and I didn’t realize that I missed it.” She admits, sapphire gaze sliding over toward the Launceleyn.
“It’s a good reminder for me, but I’m sure I’ll grow tired of it eventually again.” She huffs a laugh, clearly touched by the offer and embracing the idea deep within her. “I will think on it though, if the offer still stands?” She winks to him. Part of her finds strength within it, within the reminder. And when it had returned after she Ascended, it had almost been proof that she had lived that way, had experienced those things, that she wasn’t losing her mind. As fucked up as it might seem.
The Penumbra flashes him a clearly grateful grin for it, to show she’s not offended in the least. She loves the gift, the idea of it. She just isn’t quite ready yet to part with it.
09-07-2019, 02:34 AM (This post was last modified: 09-07-2019, 02:35 AM by Loren.)
LOREN
When Rexanna casually mentioned they were friends, Loren’s eyes widened. ”Oh! Uh...same. I mean, of course I will make time for you! For...friendship.” Even after their meeting in the Rathskellar and even though he’d helped plan parts of her wedding, the Launceleyn hadn’t expected her to consider him anything more than an acquaintance. Not even a close acquaintance. Indeed, he could count the number of friends he’d ever had on the fingers of one hand. And he’d ruined most of those friendships in the end. Hopefully this one would at least last longer than they usually did. At her comment about painting over the image, however, he shook his head; it lined up a little too closely to his thoughts for him to be totally comfortable with it. ”I’d ah, probably keep the old one and start a new canvas, if I were you. I uh, have an unfortunate habit of backsliding when times get tough.” He gave her a guilty smile.
He waited for her to finish deliberating, and finish speaking, before he responded. ”I understand. And of course the offer still stands.” Hesitating for just a brief moment, he gave her a sad smile that did not reach his eyes. ”I kept my scars too.” Even though he hadn’t ever wanted them—and maybe wouldn’t keep them forever—for now they were an important reminder of who and what he might become if he wasn’t careful and if he slid to far into the mould his family had tried to force him into. Then the Launceleyn gave the blue-eyed woman a sheepish look. ”I guess I need to come up with another present for you and Bastien, then.” Though he wasn’t exactly asking her what she wanted, he was vaguely hoping that she’d give him some ideas.
However, that offer hadn’t really been why he’d called her out here. He fiddled with his glove as he stared up at the moon and the stars and the sky above, not finding the courage to say the words. But deep down, he knew they had to be said. So, in that same core that drove him inexorably onward to help all those he could, despite the constant tragedy he made of his life, he found his voice. ”You uh, said you’d be willing to help me test whether the Ascended could summon the Spark Bird.” He hated how softly his words came out, but somehow they fit the whole tone of this night.
He seems to stutter as she calls him her friend, but she passes over it, ignoring it. That’s what friends do after all, and she’s happy to call him one as they move on. He speaks next and gives her a guilty smile before she snorts with a nod. “You and me both.” She admits, a smile lingering on her face at the implications before she shrugs it off and Loren’s wedding gift is out in the air, out in the open, and she contemplates it carefully.
He admits that the offer still stands and she gives him a grateful smile, before catching the sad one he gives her in return. And her smile falters at the mention that he had kept his too. And for a moment, she doesn’t notice any, doesn’t spot anything out of the ordinary – but she knows better than to assume. Either they were hidden, or emotional. And she could understand that too. Thankfully, he mentions coming up with a different gift, and she gives him a light laugh in response.
As cliché as it was, she only wanted people there. Not necessarily gifts. She wanted Loren to attend, to be there and witness the event as her friend, and one who helped plan her section of it! “Loren, dear, the only gift I ask is you.” She hums, a finger lifting to press to her lips as she ponders. “Or that phoenix.” She glances back to him with a light wink.
But that wasn’t why he had asked her out here, and she wondered if it would be something she would have to suggest – though she would have done it warily, not wanting him to think she was impatient of it. Yet, it seemed they were on the same page, and the words were quiet as she focuses in on him again, angling herself to look to him as her expression grows more serious. “Yes. I’m still willing to.” She admits, quiet as well, willing to do anything if it helps the majority.
She pauses for another brief moment. “I can make it as easy for you as possible, but I will have to touch you if you’re okay with that.” She tilts her head, willing to go as slow as needed to ensure he was comfortable for it. “And you might want to sit down.” She adds, reaching over to set her umbrella to the side of the bone bridge, before looking back to him and offering an encouraging smile.
As Rexanna admitted that she, too, struggled with maintaining growth and progress, Loren gave her a startled look. ”No way.” She seemed way too self-possessed and sure of herself to have such doubts about who she was and what her place in the world should be. The Launceleyn, on the other hand, sometimes felt as if he was nothing but doubts. However, he didn’t really know her that well really, and as her smile faltered at the mention of his scars, he remembered that she definitely didn’t know him. Not the real him, anyway, the monster that wore his skin and kept hurting the people he cared about even though he tried did everything within his power to prevent it.
That thought made it hard for him to muster up his own smile when she commented that all she wanted was his presence at her wedding. Still, he somehow managed. ”I and my much more important phoenix will be there. You’ll have to tell me when to call it though, so that I don’t ruin what will be an otherwise beautiful ceremony.” Having met Bastien, the summoner knew that it was going to be a wonderful experience: it had to be, with two such incredibly lovely people coming together. The thought made him happy, of course, but there was also a small, but growing seed of sadness within him. After all, he was fully convinced he didn't deserve to be loved, not in that way.
Instead of responding to her about the bite, the Launceleyn simply sat down cross-legged in the snow and the cold, heedless of the damp. He’d experienced far worse in his life and the discomfort at least distracted him from the fear he felt building in his gut. Unfortunately, he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. ”I’ve been told I might not be much use for a while after. So...summoning. I don’t know what it will feel like for you. But when I do it, I start by calling up my power, my magic, and then I picture what I want to summon in as much detail as possible and where I want it. It should appear then. It’s not real, in any way, so it should respond to your mental commands. However, you have to concentrate, because the only thing keeping it her is your magic and your focus.” He realized he’d never actually explained the mechanics of summoning to someone else who was about to use it, and that thought made him feel strange, especially considering his foolish dream of opening a school for the Abandoned. Hopefully, as a partial Abandoned herself, Rexanna knew enough about magic that his inadequate instructions would suffice.
Finally, he glanced over at her. ”You can touch me. What should I do?” He found him fingers clenching and unclenching, and he forced them still and laid his palms flat on his knees. Yes, this would suck, and not just because she was literally going to suck his blood. But it had to be done.
Oh she absolutely has a habit of diverting to her old ways, but she’s tried very hard to be better. And with her Ascension, with her being with Bastien, her attempts to retract and revert were few and far between now. And for a woman who seemed to ooze confidence, she wasn’t very confident herself for the majority of it. She was simply great at pretending. Still, she shrugs and gives a light nod in agreement.
He asks when to call the important Phoenix and she smiles as she lets her gaze drift away from him for the moment. “Hmmm, maybe near the end of the vows for the dramatic effect?” A crooked smile crosses her face at this, But it’s gone soon after as he glosses over her words, and she listens to his explanation while sitting. She puts it in the back of her mind, comparing it to her own magic, as she sits beside him and imagines the Spark Bird she has seen last year. It made sense, and she figured she could definitely give it a shot.
But finally he glances to her, allowing her to touch him, when she realizes he might have a preference to where she bit. The Penumbra tilts her head to him as she turns to face him on the side of the beside, eyes starting at the wrist of his from his clenching and unclenching hands. “Alright. You don’t have to do anything, really. Just enjoy it.” She pauses with another encouraging smile. “Would you prefer your wrist?” She hums, sapphire eyes darting toward his neck. “Or your neck?” She doesn’t have a preference, really. She had bit Remi on the wrist only because the neck had seemed to intimate for what had always been between them. But with Loren? She didn’t know what kind of history he had, whether one would be better than the other. And she hopes by giving him a choice, she can make it that much easier.
Loren smiled at Rexanna when she suggested he summon the phoenix at what might be the climax of the entire ceremony. ”I can certainly do that. After all, us Launceleyns are quite, quite good at creating drama.” It probably wasn’t the wisest comment for him to make, considering everything Zariah had done—and despite his own tendency to make problems for his friends and loved ones—and it was a feeble joke at best. But he felt he needed some levity, some humor, before he surrendered his body and his mind to the blue-eyed woman.
”Sounds like I might not have a choice in the matter.” Again, his attempt at joking fell a little flat. However, at least he was trying to go into this with as open a mind as possible: not only did he need to find a way past his own mental issues for the good of the Hollowed Grounds, he also knew it was important for him, personally, to learn how to accept touch and pleasure of all kinds. That didn’t mean it was easy for him. Indeed, as he rolled up his left sleeve (incidentally exposing the scars there, though they were the farthest thing on his mind), he found his heart pounding in his chest and his breath coming more quickly. Rexanna could probably see the latter in the way the clouds of white from the cold appeared more frequently.
Looking down, Loren gazed into the mists under the bridge that were barely visible in the moonlight. For some reason he felt that if he didn’t watch the bite happen, maybe the effects would be less powerful. Objectively, he knew that wasn’t true, but subjectively he needed all the help he could get.
The Penumbra snorts in response to his joke, nodding along with it. She didn’t know the Launceleyns well, but she knew how Edrei could make an entrance, and part of her was excited to see what kind of presence Loren might be able to add to that flare: family name and blood and all that. But she lets him make as many bad jokes as he wishes, eyes drifting from his wrist to his face as he looks away from her, before unrolling his sleeve.
Carefully, she regards him, uncertain but willing to go however long it will take for him to grow comfortable. She wonders if she should tell him to hold onto something, even herself, if he’s never been bit before. It’s an experience to say the least. Carefully, she reaches up with her pale hands, one to brace and the other to hold, she looks down to the revealing of scars — something akin to sadness burrowing within her, but she masks it, as though she doesn’t notice them. Her fingers are lukewarm in comparison to the heat he gives off, she’s basically cold in comparison. “Let me know if you want me to stop.” She says gently, wanting there to be nothing between them that would make him hate her after it.
But she turns herself to face him better, eyes drifting up toward him as though she’s asking if he’s ready, when she takes the look he gives to the mists and snowfalls to be the okay she needs. She lifts his wrist to her lips, giving him all the opportunity to stop it should he wish to. But if he continues, his wrist would find her cool lips in a brief kiss (seeking the veins) before she uses her fangs and bites as gently as she can.
Of course he wanted her to stop. Every instinct was telling him that he should stop this now, before it was too late. But the larger, more rational part of his mind was in charge right now, and it was telling him that this had to happen sooner or later, and he couldn’t really afford to wait. So as Rexanna’s lips found his wrist, and his breath caught in his throat, he forced himself to remain still.
Then her fangs sliced into his body, and he was lost, the rationality carried away by heat like he'd never felt.
A wave of pleasure crashed over him. Moaning, he felt back onto the snow: its cold couldn’t possibly compete with the burning sensation uncoiling in his belly. Indeed, he felt like he was on fire, like the phoenix they’d been talking about earlier. Every sense was alive with desire. Maybe it was because he’d never experienced it before, maybe it was because he’d gone so long without such a pleasurable sensation, or maybe it was simply always like this, but he found himself completely overwhelmed by her bite.
Indeed, all he could seem to focus on was Rexanna. They were touching in far too few places, he decided and her beautiful hair was hanging down around her as her mouth latched onto his wrist. Listlessly and languidly, his hand came up to tangle in it, the locks passing silkily and wonderfully through his fingers. Other parts of him were also responding, and if he hadn’t been bundled in as many layers as he was, it would’ve been quite apparent to the blue-eyed woman which way his thoughts were trending. Then again, the sensual groan that fell from his lips might’ve communicated that fact to her quite clearly.
She can feel his breath hitch before she bites, but she continues through, fangs sliding easily into his skin, taking blood and replacing it with an incredibly pleasurable feeling. It tastes like honey on her tongue, the only thing she can taste, and she nearly vibrates with the feeling as well. But she knows she has to be careful, that any over step on her part could prove to be dangerous.
Yet, at the sound that leaves his lips, the corners of her own lift slightly as she follows him down into the snow to continue to drink until she gets as much as she needs. A sigh of her own leaves her, enjoying the taste and the feeling of ecstasy that courses through her with the spike of the magic that lingers in his blood. Her eyes lift to his face as she drinks deep but still courteous.
She practically hums a soft sound to him as his hand laces its way through her dark hair, her free hand reaching up to run her thumb along the side of his face. Silently, she thanks the Voice for not needing to breathe, and instead can drink from him without pause, to make it as easy as possible. But she doesn’t want to give in yet, enjoying the feeling as it soars within her, thinking nothing of consequences for the beauty of blood, bites, sparkbirds, and phoenixes.
But she knows she’s had enough, and she regrettably withdraws from his wrist, her other hand coming to tighten around the wound. The hand that had lingered along his face now returns to her, the back of it brushes against her red lips to remove the traces of the bite.
And she still hovers over him, bright sapphire eyes looking down to him with a saccharine smile. “Was it as bad as you thought?” She hums, quietly, aiming to ensure she hadn’t taken too much. Had she needed to breathe she was certain she’d be breathless.
Loren could not have said how long the feeding lasted. An eternity. Too short. He was lost in the pleasure and the pure rush of sensations pouring through him.
Then Rexanna’s teeth retreated and he whined, almost, fingers tightening in her hair to keep her there for just a second longer. She was so close, and the aftermaths of what she’d done to him continue to roll through him, causing him to shiver from something very different from the cold. And her blue eyes were right there, hovering above him. So beautiful, so tempting. If he wanted to, he could reach out and kiss her.
That thought—along with the fact that the unnatural heat was receding somewhat—finally broke through the euphoria coursing through him. It helped when the blue-eyed woman spoke, giving him something to focus on besides his strange and unexpected desire to rip off his clothes and then hers. She was engaged to be married, and he, well, was unlovable and hated to be touched. This wasn't him. It wasn't. He kept thinking that over and over and over again.
As the flames receded, they left chill fingers of dread and revulsion in their wake. It wasn’t Rexanna’s fault, and the summoner should’ve predicted this outcome, but the sensation was too overwhelming, too little under his control, and way too similar to the way his family used to twist his mind and his emotions against him. Of course, sexual pleasure hadn’t been their preferred weapons, for obvious reasons, but the lack of agency horrified him.
So, again not fully under his own control (and even though heat still flared up in parts of his body) Loren rolled to the edge of the bridge and threw up, sending bile and the contents of his stomach plunging to the mists below.
She can feel the shift of the well of power within her, the separation between her own magic and the one she’s siphoned, and she carefully ensures not to delve into it until they’re ready. Sapphire eyes linger on him, letting him go as he regains control – her question up in the air, wondering where the shift came from. She sits up fully, eyes softening slightly as she lets go of his arm and gives him space – waiting for an answer.
Quietly, her lips part as she tries to figure out what else to say, before he rolls away from her, vomiting into the abyss beneath them. Her dark brows furrow together, definitely not expecting that kind of reaction. She must have done something wrong? Carefully, she leans a bit toward him, but doesn’t touch him – instead, she pushes back her dark hair from her face, concern lingering in her eyes. “Loren, are you okay?” She asks quietly.
“Did I take too much?” She can’t help but to ask that too. While Remi had been her first bite, Loren was her second. She was still trying to get used to how much to take, and gods how awful she would feel if she had left him on the brink of passing out. She didn’t think she took that much, but… One couldn’t be too sure. And after all, she was simply full of concern for the man, willing to get up and get him something, make a blanket to wrap around him, find some form of food they could make a fire with and cook and he could eat if he needed it. She simply doesn’t know where to start unless he tells her.
It doesn’t even occur to her that it could be the feeling of it.
