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!
The blonde man had hardly even started to paint when Bastien called out to them, telling them to move along to where the person was next to him. With wide eyes, he slowly moved over to the spot next to him. How embarrassing. This was supposed to be a great way to make a first impression, but he was already fumbling around like a massive idiot.
Trying to distract himself, he started to add on to whatever the person had done before him. He hadn't really paid too much attention to what this person had been doing, but clearly they had an obvious vision. Using his green paint, he started to add some vines, snaking their way along the wall. On one of the vines he'd create a branch of sorts before adding a couple of leaves.
Looking over at the woman next to him he was surprised that she had decided to talk with him. It did make him happy to finally put a name to her face. Rexanna. "Oh, I'm Oliver." He flashed her a small smile, but not without noticing her fangs. She must be an Ascended as well.
"Hey uh, you have a little bit of paint...right here." As Oliver was trying to indicate on his own face by tapping his cheekbone, he managed to leave quite a lot of green paint on his face. However, due to the cold, he didn't even notice what he had done.
10-06-2019, 12:31 AM (This post was last modified: 10-06-2019, 12:32 AM by Clemente.)
plot twist twistin' my heart 'til it's hollow
band-aids for all my scraped knees
Bastien's comment is the equivalent of setting a fire under Clem's ass. He is already stressed and uncomfortable, wary of this man who could so easily shatter the one relationship he has formed in this god awful new land, and then he tries to chide him for his defensiveness. It's far softer than Clem has ever heard though which grants a certain level of appreciation, even if his shoulders spike in discomfort to shield himself from the words. Clem turns his frustrated gaze to their host, trying in vain to swallow the tide of helpless vitriol rising like gorge in his throat. "She shouldn't have to hear it in the first place," he insists, at least having the sense to keep his voice low with everyone around them. "It's rude, and she's married, and we're in public." It's grumbled more than anything, hands tightening around himself, feeling like he has already fucked up this introduction. That Rexanna will be disappointed in him for going toe-to-toe with her husband so swiftly, when he had only wanted to defend her.
If he still had the lungs to breathe, they'd be coming swiftly, uncontrollably. There are so many people here, and Clem feels like he's drowning, fingers clutching his bracelet tightly in a vain attempt at stabilizing himself. Rexanna's words are far more comforting, and Clem manages a weak smirk of retribution at the idea that the man is a deserter as well as a perv. But he still whispers a quiet 'sorry' to the woman as the room begins to burst into motion, everyone taking up their paint colors and mural spots.
Clem buries himself in his work, painting abstract waves and a dark horizon, clueless to any artistic rules he should be subscribing to. Only jerked out of it at the command to switch, he gathers his materials and shuffles over, silent and unobtrusive. Clem just wants to paint, there's too many people and he doesn't wanna talk. This was far more interesting. Amun's silver streaks are pretty, and though he doesn't like the man much from his first impression, he's too enamored with the idea of collaborative art to intentionally ruin it. So instead he carefully draws off this lines with his paintbrush, using the silver as highlighting streaks to his blue, mimicking the harsh strokes of the prior painter's swiped fingers.
Alright, maybe these folks weren’t as laid back as they pretended to be. Granted, Amun knew he’d been pushing his luck, but as first the boy, then Blue, and then Bastien piled on to his harmless comment about the woman’s ass, the potter held up his hands in a placating gesture. ”It was a joke.” Turning to the boy, Amun tilted his head, a grin still lingering on his lips. Bastien and the woman already covered the fact that the boy didn't need to come to her defense. ”I’m curious how you know about orgies, though, bucko. And just my eyes, huh?” The potter slid his hands down his chest, though stopped them at his hips. Any lower would’ve just been lewd.
Then his eyes flicked towards the blue-eyed woman. ”Technically, we don’t breathe.” Winking at her—because their antagonism was just going to make him more annoying, not less—he turned back to the task at hand. She hadn’t seemed to like the nickname Blue, so he’d have to come up with a new one. For now, though, he was willing to follow instructions.
Rotating one over, he picked up where Gorgeous had left off. The purple paint wasn’t in any identifiable shape, but that didn’t mean he needed to follow that trend. On top of the straightest side of what could charitably called a trapezoid, he drew a half-circle, still using his hand to paint. Moving up and down within the half-circle, he filled in almost half of it vertically, leaving a small curve in the center.
There's some sort of weird altercation going on off to the side, and you are as far from interested in that as possible, though a comment about orgies catches your interest. "I was in an orgy, once," you remark rather casually, not looking at the group but making sure that your motions are as fluid and remarkable as ever. "With half of this group, in fact. Such lovely memories." Let the awkward blonde and the defensive child figure out which two make up the rest of your trio. You have far more interesting prey.
At least one of them is above being weirdly prudish, and you let your eyes rake appreciatively over the other man, licking your lips overtly. "I prefer to be played with, Fangs, but I'm flexible," you reply with a wink, adding a little purple paint to your trapezoid to make the beginning of an abstract face. Maybe art isn't exactly your forte, but you like to think you can make anything beautiful, and the budding cubism isn't technically bad.
Though it doesn't hold a candle to the work of their handsome host. You let yourself exhale an appreciative whistle at the beginnings of the work, adding in judicious splatters of tastefully arrayed purple: happy little clouds, another artist in another world might have said. As you do, you turn back to Fangs, raising a brow at his unconventional artistry. "Fond of working with your hands, hmm? Maybe sometime you can show me what other tricks you're keeping up those sleeves."
Everyone was willing to follow his instruction and took to the task well, shifting along and painting their own additions onto the artwork already on the wall. Bastien was a little surprised, in all honesty - people were often precious about their work, unwilling to let anyone else touch it. That they were all so willing and happy to work like this was promising, so he stepped away from his work and began to walk between each of them.
The point of this had been to make a beautiful mural to lift spirits, yes, but also to try and recruit some new faces for the guild. Rexanna he did not have to convert, but he certainly had something to ask her about. Quietly he stood behind her and leaned in to ask by her ear, watching the petals appear on the wall: "When were you going to tell me we have acquired a teenage boy, cara?"
Next to Oliver, who seemed to have decided to paint his face as well as the wall - well, Bastien was not one to limit expression. "It seems we have an influx of nature. Vines, flowers. Tell me, could you see yourself wanting to join our guild? We do many such things as this and have every medium you could ask for." As far as the ones he knew about from Earth or Caido, at least.
Clemente, the rather righteous boy who apparently was now his ward, was working on something dark and new with the silver and blue. While he didn't know how to feel about Clem being 'taken in' by his wife, he wouldn't hold it against the boy himself. "What do you think of, when you paint? If you joined the guild you could make as much as you like."
The next image, a more abstract piece, was being worked on by Amun. The man was a serial flirt and a bit of trouble, it seemed. But many people could have described Bastien with the same words not long ago, so he did not hold it against him (for now). "I can respect a man who knows what he wants. We could use your energy in the guild, though it seems you might have a score to settle with Rexanna first."
Bastien had a soft spot for Ezra, after their...intimate experience. His little blotches of purple didn't look like much in particular but Bastien nodded appreciatively away; this mural was as much about the joy of the process as the final image. "You know...maybe you cannot be our plaything, but you would be a fantastic model for my paintings. Does the idea appeal to you..?"
--
Just a chatty round! Keep working on your paintings and talk to Basty about maybe joining his cool kids art club?~
Oliver had been very distracted by his art, now using his finger to add more intricate and smaller leaves. Too bad he only had one shade of green, otherwise he would have some more ideas on how to add more depth and detail to what he already had. He contemplated going over to getting the blue or the purple to hopefully change the color slightly, however he didn't want to bother the feisty teen and the attractive flirt seemed far too distracted with the idea of banging Amun.
As he contemplated his next action, the leader, Bastien, came up behind him and started to speak about what he was working on. A light blush appeared as he realized he was being a bit simple or sticking to an obvious theme, however, the man still mentioned the possibility of him joining. Maybe he wasn't doing too bad after all?
"I don't have an immediate answer, but I would be interested in finding out more information. It could be fun to join. I just need to figure out more information about the other guilds." Oliver paused for a moment before realizing that his statement could possibly be misinterpreted. "I barely just arrived, so I'm still trying to figure things out. See what I'm interested in. I know I would love more information on your guild, for sure."
Well well well. Seemed that Blue and Bastien were a little freaky (even Amun hadn’t been in any orgies in this world and he was pretty sure the boy and Blondie hadn’t either). So that made their reaction to his comment about the woman’s ass even more ridiculous. ”Is that so Gorgeous? Tell me, how does one get an orgy started around here.” Yeah, no doubt the child would get all huffy again, and the woman and Bastien as well, but the potter only had eyes for the member of this little get together who apparently knew how to have a good time, at least these days. And as Gorgeous responded to Amun’s overt flirting, he winked. ”I don’t mind toys, especially when they’re as pretty as you.” However, given the physical limitations of the Ascended, it might prove difficult for him to play with anyone.
As Bastien came up to the potter, he gave the other man an appraising glance. Amun’s eyes flicked to the blue-eyed woman—he was going to assume she was Rexanna, given that there wasn’t anyone else it could be—before returning to Bastien. The potter’s voice came out in a lazy drawl. ”I’ll join. Sounds fun! And I have no problem with Rexanna.” Indeed, she was the one who had a problem with the potter, but he was pretty sure he could win her over given enough time. Apparently harmless flirting wasn’t her style but he’d find out what she liked eventually.
Thankfully, the potter was able to return his attention to Gorgeous before too long. ”It would be my pleasure. I think you’ll find I’m quite flexible as well.” With that, Amun licked his lips and ran a finger through the purple paint, leaving a smear of silver where the abstract face’s mouth would be. Then, however, he returned his hands to the area above the face, added dots of now purplish silver around the silver half-circle.
and all the people say, you can't wake up, this is not a dream
you're part of a machine,
It’s fairly easy for the Penumbra to simply ignore Amun’s last comment. As if she’s unaware. Psh. Instead, she hears Ezra’s comment after that does manage to quirk a smile to her face, glancing over to the pretty man with a silent raised brow. As for Clemente’s outrage, it seems to quell with the task that Bastien gives, and so she aims her focus on her own art as Oliver mentions she has something on her cheek. A bright smile is sent his way as though it doesn’t bother her much, not that she can feel it anyway, and gives him a light smile in response. “Same on you.” She jests with a wink, deciding that she’ll definitely partake in a shower after this, so however much paint she gets everywhere isn’t really a problem.
But she always looks good in those brighter colors, anyway, and so she doesn’t try to rub it off. She knows there will be more that adorn her features before the night is over.
Her husband begins to go around to see what everyone is making, to check in with them, and when he reaches her, leaning in near her ear, her petals pause in their creation as she lets her sapphire gaze dance over to him before she leans into him gently. “Well, soon, really. I found him just before.. the Tree ordeal. He’s been staying at my old house.” She says lightly with an apologetic smile. “He’s self-sufficient, just needed a place to stay. Can we talk about it more later?” She asks with a light tilt to her head. Part of her thinks it would have been a bigger deal had she offered him to stay at the Artist’s Guild without telling Bastien...
But this was more like, helping a friend out, in her opinion. Clemente didn’t need to be coddled, he just needed to be loved and shown how this world worked.
So she continues with her art, the petals manifesting until she moves onto a more… Atmospheric glow to the mural.
"Oh, you know, the usual way. Get a group of people, stick them in a magic fuck room, add a little god intervention, and voila!" You wink at Fangs, fairly confident he can imagine for himself what that next part was. Leaning in dangerously close, you lower your voice to a conspiratorial whisper and breathe into his ear (yes you know he can't fucking feel it but it's the idea that counts). "Betcha a drink you can't guess who the other two were."
Oh, but your handsome host is here to pull you away from your flirting, more's the pity. At least he sees your real talent- you perk up significantly as he asks you to model, preening a little, pushing back your hair. "Little ol' me? Why, darling, I would love nothing more. Especially if they're nudes." A wink again. Of course you say yes. There was never really a choice.
Fangs is doing a fun finger licking thing, and you lick your lips in open reply, grinning and picking up more of the purple paint. "Well, we'll have to put that to the test, hmm?" With a quick series of strokes you add what could charitably be called a butterfly and far more honestly a dick with wings, still just abstract enough to (maybe) avoid detection, but obvious to anyone who looks for more than a moment.
10-11-2019, 08:17 PM (This post was last modified: 10-11-2019, 08:17 PM by Clemente.)
plot twist twistin' my heart 'til it's hollow
band-aids for all my scraped knees
Flat eyes and empty expression stare down Amun, cold and clearly not laughing at this ridiculous joke. Even more unimpressed with this attempt at needling beneath Clem's skin. "Had to earn my food somehow, didn't I?" he snaps, voice dead. He's not ashamed of having been a hooker. It kept him alive after all. But he wasn't going to let this asshole think he was funny for having a constant erection like every other sick bastard Clem had met or dealt with.
It's easier to depart with Rexanna's blessing, her assurances that she is unbothered. Not surprising considering her strength of character, but Clemente is unapologetic in his defensiveness. He sinks into the painting like a stone beneath still waters, completely taken by this new medium, a way of expressing his emotions that he has never been allowed to try before.
He jumps a little in surprise when Bastien comes to speak to him, and remembering the man's chastening he glances away, suddenly shy without the protective instincts to hide behind. Nonetheless he can't help but gush quietly over the paint. "I think of everything. How the colors make me feel. The way moonlight would turn the wet streets silver," here he traces a hand over the silver and blue paint mixing in broad strokes. "Even living on the streets there was always somethin' pretty. I never got to paint, but it's...really nice." A shy admittance, wary of revealing his emotional weakness to this relative stranger. "I dunno I just uh...paint what I feel. That's probably not right, but whatever," Clem's voice goes gruff and defensive, though it wobbles with insecurity as he returns to his brush strokes.
Bastien loved each piece that appeared for the mural. Everyone had started their own piece then taken well to adapting another, creating a piece of art that was both collaborative and wholly original to each person that had attended. It would light up the marketplace, remind people in the dark days to come that there was still beauty, still colour, to be found.
It seemed other Guilds were also vying for Oliver 's attention. Bastien simply nodded and touched his shoulder. "Feel free to approach me for it anytime. With the work you have created today, you would always be welcome." While the guild did not judge based on skill, he liked to see enthusiasm and joy taken in art; Oliver's simple picture certainly seemed to possess those.
He was surprised when Amun readily agreed to join without any hesitation at all, but he was hardly going to argue with such a readily available member of the guild. "Then welcome." Bastien said nothing of a 'problem with Rexanna'; he was not going to reject a man over one misplaced flirtatious comment, but any more and he would have to talk with her about what she wanted to do. For now though, he was a member of the Guild.
Rexanna 's response about the boy calmed him a little; it seemed he was not going to be staying at their home. With that being the case, Bastien did not mind too much; perhaps it was a good use for Rexanna's old house. "Yes. Though now I know he is at your old home...it does not affect me as much. I would like to know more, though." It was a good quality of hers, really. Her compassion, her willingness to take on the struggles of those who needed her most.
His next potential member agreed easily too, asking to be painted nude. Bastien laughed and nodded. "You can wear whatever you like to be drawn, whether that is the finest silks or nothing at all. Welcome, Ezra." He was glad about this addition; he liked Ezra. He found him to be fun, handsome and quick, a trio of very advantageous traits for a member of his guild.
None of the answers he'd received could prepare him for the one Clemente gave him though. Bastien could hardly keep the thrilled grin off his face as he listened. "There is no right and wrong, though if there were I am sure you would be right. What a wonderful answer - I do not often see so much wisdom in one so young. Please tell me you might consider joining?"
He went back to finish off his own patch off work, adding more detail onto the painting that had originally been Rexannas. It felt good, to work on something with her - an expression of their togetherness. He added lines that curved with her own, followed them, then split off into their own paths; when he had felt the work was done and stepping back saw other similarly finished works, he said to all his artists:
"If you believe you are done, please join me in signing this work - here, at the corner." Taking a thin brush, he dipped it in white paint and signed his name at the bottom right corner of the wall, his signature an intricate series of swirls and dots. "Thank you for gracing me with your talents."
---
Final round - put a finishing touch in and sign the mural!
Thank you for participating; those of you whose characters were interesting in joining, I have PMed you!
The boy didn’t like the potter’s comments. That was too bad, because as sad a sob story as it sounded like the boy was telling, Amun wasn’t particularly interested in listening. They’d all gone through shit. He was much more interested in listening to Gorgeous, since all that sounded good to the potter. ”Sounds about right. Now tell me, where can I find a magic fuck room around here?” While he was severely limited in what he could do physically, that didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck. As Gorgeous challenged the potter to guess who the other participants in the orgy were, a lazy and wicked grin spread across his face. ”Sounds hard.” He sank enough heat into the last word to make it clear what he meant. ”Let’s see...it’s not the kid or the newbie. Is it our host and the lovely lady?” The promise of a drink was worth playing along with the game.
Then their host was there, as if called by Amun’s words. Apparently it was easy to get accepted by Bastien. Despite the problems the potter had caused and the fact that he’d gotten in a tiff with Rexanna, Bastien had no qualms allowing the potter to join his little club. Either they were quite the welcoming lot or they were desperate. Amun supposed he’d find out soon enough. Thankfully, Gorgeous provided another welcome distraction. ”I would also like if they were nudes. And you can put me to whatever test whenever you want, Gorgeous.” The potter winked for good measure.
They were almost done with the mural, though very few of them had followed the rules. Indeed, when asked to put the final touches, the potter drew a dark hole new moon outlined in silver above the winged dick butterfly. Indeed, all his circles had been moons of various sorts. Adding a crescent moon to the mix, he then wandered over to the white paint and signed next to Bastien. Then the potter ran his paint covered hands down his body to wipe them off in what was clearly a sensual motion. ”See you around, Gorgeous.” Turning to their host, Amun grinned at Bastien. ”Thanks handsome.” With that, the potter turned and walked away, whistling a dirty sea shanty.
and all the people say, you can't wake up, this is not a dream
you're part of a machine,
She can’t help but to overhear Amun’s conversation with Ezra, and her smile quirks up a small amount. “I much prefer Lovely Lady.” She retorts, a smirk crossing her face as she glances toward them. But Bastien is doing the rounds, and Rexanna continues on her little portrait, finding a small amount of pride beaming within her at Clemente’s response to Bastien. But speaking of, her husband replies easily to her own answer.
“I like to think that if I were to do something that effected our life that much I’d likely talk to you before doing it.” She answers with a bright grin, a scrunch to her nose as she glances over to him. But he’s going through and talking to everyone now, and the comment he makes to Clemente warms her even more – wondering aside from his realization that she wanted to be a mother in her own right, that he’d likely make a wonderful father as well.
She looks over to Clemente then with yet another bright smile. “I’m not very good at it either, but I try.” She tells the boy with a wink, recalling the time Bastien had taken her painting and she had butchered the poor tree she had tried to capture. But that was then, and this was now. She finds that her creation magic is far easier to manage than unwieldy paint.
Soon enough, however, the Penumbra is finished, and she slips away after Amun does after giving her final touches, moving to the corner to add her own before she pauses and looks toward Bastien with a raised brow. “This is the first time I’m signing something in my new name.” She admits quietly, a light smirk crossing her face at the thought. At least she only needs to add one letter into her initials, finding it not too different from her usual initials.
A nice script-like writing appears from her white dipped paint brush, an elegant “RdR” hidden in the corner beside Bastien’s own.
Oliver glanced at his work...and felt confused. He hadn't done anything all that extravagant? Or big? In fact, he felt a bit disappointed with himself. He knew that he could do so much more, but here he was painting the bare minimum. Why would Bastien choose to invite him after seeing a bunch of lame vines?
Still, Oliver did want to join....but he'd have to take a look at the other guilds first, then see which one fits him the most. "Sure, yeah. Once LongNight ends I'll hopefully be able to decide." He flashed the other man a smile before returning to his work.
Gently, Oliver set down the paint can and stared at his work before thinking things over. Using his clean hand, he very gently borrowed some of the silver paint that had been left behind by Amun. He had already left so he shouldn't mind all that much. Very gently, he worked towards creating a rose. The stem was green and the petals were a mix of silver and green. It'd add some color to his art and show the gift of life that comes after a long period of darkness.
Taking a step back, he smiled at his work and made his way over to signing his work, but not without noticing a phallic object printed on the wall. Shaking his head, Oliver took the paintbrush and looked at all the other signatures. With a lack of confidence, he signed Oliver in a semi neat script. It was smooth but not fancy.
And with that, he glanced back over at those who were still there. The young boy who had a fiery spirit and a gift for art would surely go far. Then there was the handsome stranger who seemed mighty confident as well. Maybe the Artists Guild was for him, he'd have to see.
