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 Ark is back. Life just got a hell of a lot more interesting.
Jack’s a beautiful fucking freak. Stunning eyes. Damn good in bed (like the only time he’s a giver, an otherwise selfish ass). And always seems to know what I’m thinking, which sometimes gives me the creeps, but I figure as long as we’re on the same team, it ain’t actually a problem.
We have a system. And it involves not knowing more than I need to, which means we don’t grab a drink until he’s done his unloading. Meet in daylight, because we’re ‘old friends’ and I can give him some added legitimacy. Everything else is on a strictly improv basis, flying by the seat of our pants in the dark of night, making plans and then adapting - I swear, if I didn’t love my bar, I’d be a fucking pirate.
So I’m just chilling by the docks, a bottle of mid-level rum in my hand, trying to figure out before he gets here if I want to take him to bed while he's in town. On one hand I'm feeling a little horny and on the other hand I hate stroking his ego too much. Ugh. It's a tough one, but I suppose something I don't have to decide right now, while I'm patiently (something I’m surprisingly good at) waiting for Jack to find me so we can have a chat and a walk. He’s always been much better at finding me than I’ve been at finding him. And I'm always happy to let him do the work.
01-29-2020, 05:36 PM (This post was last modified: 01-29-2020, 07:33 PM by Jack.)
I’m not an artist I’m a fucking work of art
If Raza doesn’t want to stroke his ego, Jack’s got something else she can wrap her fingers around. Her thoughts came crackling through to him like a familiar hum of electricity as he came into range, and whilst the smuggler didn’t really have dick on the mind just then, it hardly took much for his higher thinking to get jostled that way. ”You’re filthy,” he told her as he vaulted a low wall to sit with her, inhaling deeply on the cigarette between his lips. ”Sittin’ out here in the gods damned middle of the day, drinkin’ and lookin’ coy as a virgin. Fuck you.”
The Ark had safely docked and her cargo (legitimate and otherwise) was well on its way to where it needed to be. For all intents and purposes, Jack was on vacation. He held out the cigarette for her, his free hand open for the rum in exchange. ”If you ain’t a sight for sore eyes I don't know what is. No one said I’d get back and there’d be a fuckin’ portal in the middle of the beach.”
My immediate reaction is to snort and refuse to look at him. “Fuck off. You’re the one who’s been livin’ on a ship for months.” We are, of course, talking about two different things. “Have ya even showered yet?” Purposefully wrinkling my nose, I shake my head at the cigarette and take a swig of the booze, keeping it on the other side of me. It’s not a real insult, but coy, virginal me feels like playing some games.
“Ruined a perfectly good beach,” I agree. Giving Jack some side eye, I continue jesting, “They tried to find you to ask where they should put it, but the great Smuggling King is just too good at his job. So. Beach it was.” As if we’d had any choice in the matter. Which is pretty fucked up, but apparently Gods were involved and I’m not about to go storming into a Shrine and demand accounting.
The real problem is that some of the most annoying, self-pitying fuckers have come through and made themselves at home in the Hanged Man. Fuck if I know why. Their home must suuuuuck. They’re balanced by some of the most intriguing, powerful, but equally fucked up people. Some of them could be useful, and I’ve made careful note of who to stay away from and who to approach.
I lean back and kick my legs a big over the water. “So how was this run?”
"Not yet. I stink an' I'm thirsty," Jack drawled to her, taking another draw on his cigarette and glaring half-playfully at the rum she had deigned to share with him. Snorting at her continued games, he shrugged exaggerately and gestured out into the sea. "What, they couldn't find me so they just thought they'd stick it wherever? Fuckin' ingrates," he remarked, exhaling smoke up into the cloudless sky. "I'd have put it right by your bar. Means anyone goin' to and fro could set themselves up with a drink."
Alas, beach it was, as she said. And whilst Raza did not speak of those who had come through the portal, her thoughts were abuzz with enough of them to prompt Jack to ask the question. Flicking the ash from a cigarette, he turned his head to watch a shoving match develop between two sailors - a chat and entertainment. Lovely. "So what's the portal achieved so far? Any ships come sailin' through it?" If the Ark could go through that'd be something for sure.
And as for his run? A smirk crept across his face. "Very interestin' - boy do I got presents for you. Now if only I could get my navigator to stop sailin' us across the fuckin' Maw I'd be laughin'."
“Mmmm, I’dve put it in the ocean. Just far enough out so you have to be a good swimmer to get to land.” That’d take care of the drunks, the bumbling idiots, and anyone who couldn’t hang with the Torchers. Cause we’re practically raised in the water and I don’t trust anyone who can’t swim.
Do I want the portal next to my bar? Hell no. It might make me rich, but it would also drive me fucking crazy. I make a face. “Mostly fuckheads from the Hollowed Ground. Y’know, that bubble the Old Gods put up to the east. There’s one really powerful guy that you should meet. The others -” Eh. I shrug. Not worth it. Not worth it at all.
I do grin at the prospect of presents. I’ve never gotten this many present all at once, must have done somethin’ right. Handing the rum over to Jack, I more or less press purposefully aim to let his abs stop the back of my hand. I chuckle. “You still worked up ‘bout lettin’ a woman on the ship?” Oh, I know there have been plenty of women on the ship, but never one who stayed there more than overnight. I like El. She’s not a bad Outlander. Cute, feisty. Like a pint-sized terror I would kill to let loose in a room full of cocky men.
”Now that’s an idea. Pity they didn’t consult the good people of these shores before installin’ a portal on the seafront.” Jack snorted, having zero idea who they were but having every intention of finding the fuck out. The Hollowed Ground did ring a bell, and he wrinkled his nose at Raza’s description. ”Treats - we get to deal with a bunch of ragged bubble escapees,” he muttered, flicking ash from the cigarette. And the really powerful guy? ”His name is Remi.” Half guesswork, half meeting the alchemist the night before. All part of the mystique.
Grunting as he received a fully intentional backhand with added bottle for kicks, Jack nonetheless accepted the drink and took a healthy swig from it. He rolled the neck of the bottle between his fingers and cast Raza a thoroughly unimpressed look as she brought up Eloise. ”You mean that walkin’ distraction thrown in amongst my men?” he asked. ”The one who won’t even put out, let alone keep from givin’ me a runnin’ fuckin’ commentary every hour?”
“I fucking hate it when you do that.” Exhaling with an exasperated sigh and shooting him another look, I mock scowl - or is it a real scowl? - as the pleasure of knowing something before Jack is so rudely stolen. Smuggled. Right out from under my fucking nose.
His rant on Eloise and her and her antics have me raising a brow, though. “What bugs you more, that she won’t fuck you, or that she’s too good at her job for you to let ‘er go?” Because if she’d been that bad, Jack would have dumped her at some island or confined her to the galley or told me she’d been dumped at Port. I’m betting it’s because she won’t sleep with him. The Smuggling King hates to lose.
I reach for the cigarette. Guess I want a drag after all.
"I know," Jack purred, his tone smug. "But tell me more about him - he seemed confused about his own reasons for wantin' to meet with me when I saw him last night." Only fair to let slip that he had met Remi prior; had to keep a low profile on the ol' magic and all that.
As for Eloise, Jack snorted and took another swig of rum before offering it and his cigarette back to Raza. "She must be good at her job, I got no idea why the fuck else I'd keep her on board," he muttered. She had sailed them into a sea monster, then right across The Maw, and two of his crew had drowned as a result.
"How crude of you to imply otherwise. This is why you ain't allowed on board longer'n a night."
Welllll… after taking a pause for a drag, I offer the cigarette back. “He was here before the portal opened. Somehow. Owns a wagon of magical stuff with his husband, Ronin. They’re going through somethin’. Lost their kid. More or less a drunk, but when he breaks shit he always comes back to fix it. An’ made me some magical things to smooth things over.” I pause for a moment. “Overly dramatic, prone to fights. Can shift, too.” A shrug, thinking that for the last one, he’s kinda like Jack, but gay.
“Seems like a good guy at heart - or once was. We don’t get too far into the personal shit.” Mostly because I’m not a great therapist. My prescriptions for working through problems is to drink, fight, or fuck it out, and I’m sure Remi’s done all three.
“No,” I correct Jack, “I don’t want to stay more ‘n a night on your smelly ship.” Being amongst sweaty men in tight quarters is not for me. Thinking about it, I don't know how Eloise stands it.
Jack let out a snort at her description of the man he had met outside the Hanged Man; in reality he was reacting to the prospect of them being alike (overly dramatic much?) but of course Raza wasn’t to know that. ”He sounds like an absolute delight,” he said, accepting the trade back of cigarette for rum. ”He mentioned wantin’ to let me know which side he was on when it came to these portal Outlanders. The guy’s good at bribes, I’ll give him that much.”
The shoving match had turned into a sloppy brawl in front of them; whilst entertaining, Jack did give Raza a nudge with his elbow. ”You’re gonna want to move,” he advised; if not it was likely that one of the idiot brutes would careen into her. Foresight and all that. And Jack didn’t want to have to stamp someone’s teeth out today; he was having a relatively good morning.
”Oi - my ship is perfectly lovely right now,” he objected. Or it would be once he’d had the men scrub it too to bottom. ”That sort of talk can be offensive to a man and his ship.”
“He ain’t bad if you catch ‘im before he gets shitfaced.” That’s probably before dinner time, but no one’s perfect. “But I’ve no fuckin’ clue what that’s supposed to mean.” Shrugging, I take a swig of the rum and am momentarily drawn in by the fight that starts. They look familiar, but then almost everyone does if they're not regulars. Tan and a beard? I probably think I've seen you before.
Jack’s elbow brings me out of it and I scoot out of the way - internally amused by the thought that for all his street urchin origins, he can be surprisingly chivalrous. Might be time to take a stroll if shit is gonna get messy. With a jut of my chin I indicate a general direction. “Come on, let’s walk. What else is new?”
"I guess we'll find out. I ain't keen on joinin' any war these Outlanders might pull through their portals, put it that way," Jack muttered, flicking ash from the cigarette and taking a final drag before grinding it out on the stone beside them. No sooner had Raza moved when one of the brutes attempted to tackle the other, sending them careening in their general direction. Jack was already on his feet by that point, itching at the scruff on his chin and heading in the direction she had indicated.
"A fine idea. Not much is new - we ran into a monster out at sea and lost two crew, so I'm in the market for more. Send any idiots my way if you reckon they got promise," he said. "I heard the governor has been hard to get hold of lately too. Ain't ideal for me." Because obviously corruption ran all the way to the top, and Jack liked to check in to make sure all was savvy.
I shake my head, agreeing with him (for once). “Just gonna keep ‘em all at arms’ length. Not to be trusted until they prove themselves otherwise.” Like most people in my life, actually. So that’ll be easy enough. Mortfires, Hoa’s the only one I can really count on. Even though I’ve known Jack for a decade I still sometimes wonder if he wouldn’t turn me in if he was backed into a corner or if the price was good enough.
I don’t know what I’d do in that kind of situation, and hope I’ll never have to find out.
“Saiden asked me how to get on your good side,” I blab, still amused at the idea that the cook and the captain don’t get along. Also not entirely surprised, for… multiple reasons. “I told him to either be useful or save your ass.” It’s more what I don’t say to either of them that might be the most helpful, though. Having two too-pretty-for-their-own-good men on the same boat is asking for trouble.
"I'll drink to that," Jack muttered; at arm's length was best for everyone in his experience, Torchline or otherwise. They headed down towards the docks and the beach - conveniently where both the Ark and the Hanged Man were a stone's throw away. He snorted as she spoke about Saiden, the smuggler raising his eyebrows across at her as if to ask if she was serious. "The boy's a fuckin' bug up my ass," he said. "Decent cook, but why he can't just do his fuckin' job and get drunk with the rest is beyond me."
It wasn't, but Jack was equally suspicious of anyone who was trying to get cozy with him. "You told him right. An' I don't see him savin' my ass ay any point." He scoffed.
