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!
10-17-2019, 03:21 AM (This post was last modified: 10-18-2019, 03:37 PM by Oliver.)
OLIVER
The Temple had a lot to offer. Totally. Okay...not really.
Oliver didn't quite have much to do. He had far too few personal belongings, not enough to really keep him satisfied, if that's the correct terminology. He didn't really know what his thing was yet, what he was talented at or what he could do for hours on end. So instead he found himself sitting on the floor in the Temple over by one of the lights. One of his very, very few non clothing items was a small book filled with blank pages.
Using a makeshift charcoal pencil, Oliver tried his best to sketch out whatever came to mind. It wasn't much, but it became a game almost for him. He'd begin one thing, move on to another when he got bored, then go back to the first thing when he got bored with the second. He'd add as many intricate details. One page was only filled with flowers and vines, snaking around the pages filled with very small details. When he couldn't think, he'd tap the pencil against the paper and chew his lip.
Really, he wanted something to do. Anything. Drawing seemed like an obvious answer, sure, but there had to be something more, right?
Sometimes he'd look at someone and draw what they reminded him of. He'd engage in people watching, or try to. It's kind of hard to when you're confined to one small area.
In short: he was bored as hell and drawing all alone was only going to last him so long.
Well it's been like .5 minutes and you're already bored.
It was nice to see Fangs, sure, but he'd sauntered off somewhere, and everyone was just so damn busy. You, on the other hand, have been ready and situated for basically forever, and now you're bored. Nobody seems super ready for drinking yet, more's the pity: it'll change, you're sure, as the week wears on and everyone's mental status starts to fall apart.
You spend the first few hours just watching people mill about and find their places, happy you've already snagged a nice little corner for yourself. Then you start to prowl, sulking through the room like a particularly broody cat, an air of look but please don't touch unless I touch you first exuding from every pore. You're dressed in an artful arrangement of blue silks lined with silky fur lining, comfortable and stylish even in this shithole of a temple, because damnit if you haven't been trained to look your best, even in a siege. You're looking for something pretty, but you're not sure what yet.
Or who.
Well, hello. If that isn't a lovely little face, though not really your type, as it were. But he's cute enough, and drawing, and you recognize him from that fun evening of painting and hitting on Fangs. So without much thought or hesitation you slide yourself down beside him, splaying haphazardly on the ground and grinning up at the boy. "Hey there, Blondie. Need a model?"
What people had apparently failed to mention about LongNight was that there were, well, people everywhere. While normally Amun was a fan of getting cozy, he’d spotted children, while families, and yet not a single hidden corner to be seen. He’d known that he’d have to be quiet, of course. He just hadn’t known he’d have to be invisible too.
Trying not to let the disappointment show, he scanned the crowd for someone who might distract him. He ended up getting two for the price of one as familiar figures, ones he’d already spoken to caught his eye. He grinned wickedly, all disappointment gone, as he sauntered over, hands in his pockets. Although he was dressed rather plainly—he was new here and hadn’t had the chance to update his wardrobe—he walked with the confidence of a man he knew he looked good in anything. Or nothing, as the case might be.
He preferred nothing.
Then he was near enough to his intended targets to hear them speak. ”How about two? I think I heard something about posing nude.” Then potter winked at both of them, his tone positively lascivious. ”Blondie and Gorgeous together. Must be your lucky LongNight.” Because they got Amun, of course.
The sound of an unfamiliar voice caught Oliver's attention, or well, the familiar nickname had. The voice didn't match up with the typical person to call him that, so it had immediately grabbed his attention. He turned his head to look at a semi-familiar face. Oliver somewhat recognized the man, but not enough to even have a name come to memory. Then it hit him. He was the man from when they painted the mural, the one who he never got to speak with.
It was an interesting offer, one that he actually kind of wanted to accept. Before he could reply though, a new, familiar voice entered the mix. Looking up, Oliver saw Amun, the original person who called him Blondie. A light blush lit up his face as he watched how the other man spoke and carried himself. There hadn't been any talk about posing nude, but then again, it could be a joke? Oliver had hardly even drawn humans that he could remember, let alone something like that. Besides, where could they even go to engage in such activities?
When the handsome stranger had approached him Oliver was going to say yes, but now? Would it be too hard to draw two people? Especially when one of those is someone he is oh so familiar with?
"Sure, but I must warn you I'm still learning." Come on, Oliver. Say something impressive or flirty. Anything. He already knew that Amun was flirting, yet again, with the handsome stranger. He had to step up his game...wait, when did he want to flirt?
"Not sure if I'll be able to truly capture the attractiveness of either of you. But, if you're willing to help me learn, I'd love to draw both of you."
"Lucky indeed," you positively purr as Fangs enters the fray, arching your body suggestively as you turn to look up at him through deliciously thick lashes. Now here is a man who you suspect can give you what you want- or something close enough to it, given his, ah, condition. Definitely gonna have to beg Lily to let you use that room again. "Glad to see someone else who appreciates art and human form." Laying it on thick, but what the hell. Go big or go home, right?
Blondie, though, seems really quite flustered, and it's almost enough to make you take pity on the poor child. "Aw, sweetie, that's okay- nobody could." Fucking right they can't - you're gorgeous and you know it, with your long dark hair and freckled features, your smooth lines and androgynous features. And Fangs, well, he's not half bad himself.
Even Blondie's rather pretty, if you were into that sort of thing.
"But practice makes perfect, after all. And you have two very willing subjects." With a wink you put your arm around Fangs' shoulder, your other arm raised in a right angle, hand on your forehead and leg cocked up so your hips press against the dark haired man. It's an over-dramatic pose, perhaps, but it lets you hit on Fangs while Blondie draws, and hey, you're nothing if not a people pleaser.
Oliver blushed that adorable shade he got whenever Amun got even a little bit flirty. He grinned wickedly at the newcomer before turning to Gorgeous. ”I don’t think either of us have a problem teaching you, Blondie.” And no, the potter wasn’t talking about drawing, though he wouldn’t mind letting Oliver make a few quick sketches. As long as that wasn’t all the three of them did, of course.
As Gorgeous spoke about the human form, Amun’s eyes traveled down the bartender’s body before settling around Gorgeous’ groin for a lingering moment. Then they flicked back up. ”I’m always happy to appreciate the human form, Gorgeous.” The potter winked to make sure there was no confusion about what he meant.
As the newcomer explained that he couldn’t capture their attractiveness—which was probably true—Amun gave his best smolder. Then he chuckled at Gorgeous’s response, the sound low and sexy. ”Agreed. But you’re welcome to look as long as you’d like. You can even touch.” Again, posing was all well and good, but fucking was better. Or the Ascended equivalent.
On that note, as Gorgeous’ arm rested on the potter’s shoulder, and the bartender’s hips pressed into Amun, he grinned, then turned into the embrace; his own arm snaked around Gorgeous’ back, supporting the bartender as the pose drew dramatic. While the potter wanted to flirt with Gorgeous, the potter didn’t want Blondie to feel too left out, so Amun contented himself with pressing his body against the bartender. At the same time, the Ascended made sure to look at Oliver as Amun licked his lips, his tongue sensual and slow, lingering on his fangs where the peeked out.
The flirting between the two was obvious, the sexual tension filled the air. It wasn't too hard to notice, but then again, the two weren't exactly trying to hide it. As well, both of them were extremely confident, especially with how they viewed themselves and each other. Oliver had already seen this in Amun before, so it was nice to see it carried over even to now. The stranger too had this same confidence. It would be a lie if Oliver said he didn't find confidence to be attractive. It could maybe even be considered a turn on.
The way the stranger spoke to him, showing that they knew they were attractive was a lot. Amun followed along, not even missing a beat. "I hope I can at least do both of you somewhat justice." Hopefully they wouldn't hate what he created or be offended by his lack of skills.
As the two worked on their poses, Oliver watched on. The way the stranger pressed his body against Amun allowed Oliver to know their goals. What they wanted to achieve. He somewhat wished he could be in Amun's place, to receive that much attention. While the stranger seemed occupied with Amun, the Ascended turned to look towards him. Looking right at Oliver.
Oliver's grip on the pencil tightened as he watched the Ascended lick his lips. The abandoned bit his lower lip and as the man's tongue ran across his fang, he was reminded of the pleasure the bite had brought him. It was enough to make him miss it and crave it. He hadn't thought too much about it before, but man did he want it now. Alas, he was going to be drawing, rather than being up close to Amun.
Looking back down at his sketchbook, Oliver started to work on a rough sketch. No major details were added, of course, just starting with the basics and general shapes of their bodies. So far he wasn't doing too bad. His marks were very light. Occasionally, he'd look back up at the two, watching them carefully. He'd look them up and down before looking back at his pad. References were needed, right?
As he drew, he'd bite his lip, both in thought and trying his best to at least grab their interest. He was jealous, absolutely.
"Oh, yes. Nothing like a little hands on experience," you contribute lasciviously, raising a finger to trace the angle of one of Fangs' cheekbones. You could cut yourself on those things, though you're really more interested in his bite. And in making poor, sweet little Blondie squirm.
Fangs' is as obliging as you would have expected, leaning into your pose with a tragic lack of pressure from his groin, more's the pity. Pouting a little, you nevertheless adjust your positions just a little, lowering your arm from around Fangs' shoulder and turning so it's facing away from Blondie. Without a change to your expression your hand comes to land on Amun's, pressing it to the angle of your hips in a clear invitation for him to explore. If you're gonna be standing here while Blondie draws you might as well have fun.
Blondie's cute when he bites his lip, you'll give him that. "How's it going, sweet thing?" You're genuinely curious to see what he comes up with. Maybe it'll even be good. "Anything you want us to adjust? Clothes can be hard to draw, I hear."
Well, now Oliver was just making it easy. ”Or you could just do us.” Amun waggled his eyebrows, though he would obviously not at all mind if Blondie took the Ascended up on the offer. Still, it didn’t take long for the potter’s full attention to be captured by Gorgeous; as the bartender’s hand traced Amun’s cheekbone, his own hand did a little wandering of its own, until it squeezed Gorgeous’ ass before returning to the bartender’s hips.
However, it seemed the two of them were just getting started. As Gorgeous turned and found the Ascended’s hand, he was more than happy to take the invitation to explore, his hand moving back downwards towards the bartender’s ass. This time, it stayed there. However, the potter’s eyes never left the newcomer’s. As the Ascended stared, he bit his lower lip gently with his fangs; he’d seen how both Blondie and Gorgeous had looked at them, and Amun was not above using the few perks he had to greatest maximum devastating impact.
As the bartender asked how Oliver was doing, then brought up clothes, Amun smirked. ”I’ve heard that too. The fewer clothes the better.” His free hand reached across his body to lift the bottom of his shirt. Simultaneously, the hand on Gorgeous’ ass moved up and around the bartender’s hip.
Then, Amun dipped just the tips of his fingers under the waist of Gorgeous’ pants.
Amun's offer was...extremely tempting. A bit too much, in fact. However, Oliver wasn't sure how the stranger felt towards him. The person seemed far more interested in Amun, hardly showing him any sort of attraction. Swallowing hard, he tried to look at Amun in the eyes. "You should know my answer to that...it depends on what your friend thinks." Hopefully Amun could reach his face: that he wanted to get as much attention as they were giving each other. He wanted to be bitten again, to be reminded of those feelings.
While waiting for a response, he shakily continued his art. However, when he looked back up, they were getting far more handsy. He watched as the ascended's hands grasped at the other's ass. Oliver felt jealous, for sure, even moreso when he saw the man's hands dip ever so slightly into the other's pants.
"They're going well, helps that I have two incredible models." He was buttering them up a bit, hoping he'd receive some attention. Anything. "I wouldn't mind you losing some of your clothes, after all no one is paying us any attention." Really, they were in a rather secluded part of the temple. A place where hopefully nobody would bother them.
Things you expected: Fangs to immediately invite Blondie into the fray.
Things you didn't expect: Blondie to - at least sort of - say yes.
Arching a delicate eyebrow at the other boy, you let your eyes really rake over his slender frame, clearly appraising the hesitant little lamb. "I think you should put your mouth where your money is," you reply with a salacious smirk, arching your back just a little and leaning into the hand on your ass.
A hand which moves steadily further, until fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Biting your lip appreciatively, you raise your own hand off your hip and up to Fangs' neck, letting long fingers play in the locks of his short, thick hair as your eyes flutter closed. The man certainly seems to know what he wants, and damn if you can't appreciate that.
Blondie, though? You're still not convinced.
Opening your eyes back up, you turn your head to fix the budding little artist with a smoldering, challenging stare. "I wouldn't mind doesn't seem like much of an invitation to me." You're a sub through and through- you have to be told, and right now the lamb isn't telling you much except that he's pretty and horny and inexperienced as fuck. "You're in charge, maestro. Direct us as you will."
As Oliver hesitated, Amun smirked. Submissive could be cute, but there was a huge difference between a submissive who wanted to be dominated and one who was so uncertain about what he wanted that it veered into being not at all sexy. Right now, Blondie was veering towards the latter. After all the Ascended had done all the work in his last encounter with the newcomer and Amun didn’t want to repeat the experience. Variety was the spice of his sex life and all that.
Thankfully, Gorgeous responded first, and the potter threw the bartender a wicked look. Simultaneously, the Ascended’s hand squeezed Gorgeous’ ass again as the bartender leaned into the potter's touch. Then Amun returned his gaze to Oliver. ”Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The Ascended smirked wickedly. ”You call, Blondie. Why should what Gorgeous wants matter? If you want a taste, nothing’s stopping you.” Except for the fact that Oliver so obviously needed to be led,. Again, once was fine, but twice wasn’t nearly as appealing.
As Gorgeous’ hand moved up to the potter’s hair, he grinned, then turned his head to lightly nip at the bartender’s wrist. Not enough to draw blood, of course, but enough to tease at what might come. However, as Gorgeous questioned Oliver’s commitment, Amun looked back at the newcomer, eyes flicking up and down Blondie’s body. ”Nor to me. And why should we be the ones to lose our clothes first?”
As the bartender placed the newcomer in charge, though, the potter immediately felt his predatory instincts flare—both his sexual and Ascended ones—and he turned so that he was facing Gorgeous and deliberately not facing Blondie. One of Amun’s hand remained on the bartender’s hip as the other came to rest on Gorgeous’ chest, fingers tracing delicious patterns there. ”Or we could make this a duet.” The potter winked. Then it was his turn to throw Oliver a challenging look over the Ascended’s shoulder.
It was a bit hard to be bold when he felt as though he didn't have enough permission to do so. The unknown man never did tell him it was okay. His response to Amun was more of him asking for confirmation, for the mysterious man to show that he was allowed to flirt. Plus, he still felt extremely envious of everything that the other two were doing.
Drawing had started to get increasingly harder, not only due to their movement, but also due to all of the current distractions. His jealousy, watching the other two move their hands skillfully. It was a lot to take in, even more when the baton was passed over to him.
"You offered to model for me, did you not? If you wanted me to put on a show, I'd take them off." Taking a deep breath, Oliver contemplated what to say next. How to say it to not appear awkward. To be just as confident and knowledgeable as the other two when it came to flirting. "Take off your tops. Both of you." Then he specifically addressed Ezra. "Tell me your name or what I can call you by."
Part of him was slightly interested to see what happened when the man would get bit, but the other half of him wanted to be in their place. Would he even get the chance to himself? Or would he be forced to watch on, never partaking.
Maybe if he showed confidence he'd get more attention. When Amun showed confidence, he received something nice. The same thing happened in reverse...surely, he'd receive the same treatment. Very carefully, Oliver stood up, his pencil and small sketchbook set on the ground where he once sat. He'd have his turn instead. They wanted to poke at him? He'd play rough too.
Walking over to the two he looked at Amun. "I want you to bite me."
Oh, so the lamb does have a spine? Well well well, isn't that something. Though to be quite frank you barely notice: you're busy shivering at the feeling of teeth on your wrist, a soft half-moan of appreciation leaving your lush and pouting lips. You can feel your pants growing deliciously tight, not even attempting to hide your erection as Fangs runs one hand over your hip and the other down your chest.
But you do have enough attention remaining to open your eyes and glance at Blondie, a challenging smirk on your lips. Suddenly you're not really feeling like sharing, especially with a lamb playing at domme. "Call me what your want, darling," you reply with a shrug. Still, you have no issue obliging his request, shrugging off your loose fur robe, your chest already largely bare, toned and smooth and muscular from careful grooming, not manual work.
Oh but now Fangs is facing you, and his hand is on your skin, and fuck if the sudden bout of possessiveness isn't hot as hell. He's a fair bit shorter than you, but whatever: he carries it well. Letting your own hands slip under the bottom of his shirt, you lean against his ear with a deep, delicious purr, though your eyes never leave Blondie. "Only if you promise to make me sing."
And then, miracle of miracles, Blondie storms over, short as a gnome and all huffy and demanding but in the way a mouse might demand something from a cat. Fuck no, you've laid claim to this one- but you slip so you're standing behind Fangs and the little lamb can face him, your arms wrapped around him, chin on his shoulder, a wicked grin on your freckled face. "Oooh, look who's calling the shots now, hmm?" Without missing a beat you raise your teeth to Fangs' ear, biting on the lobe of it while your thumbs rest in the band of his pants. "I don't know, little mouse- maybe I don't want to share."
