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!
Normally a breath of fresh sea breeze in any room she entered, today Eloise appeared smaller than even her petite frame should have allowed for. Her dark hair was flat against her face rather than effortlessly pushed back by her fingers, and her gaze which normally scanned a room for potential targets was focused on the floor. She wore a black shift with a plunging neckline, but given her cowed posture she looked anything but the minx that those who knew her well, might have expected.
Taking a seat at the counter, as one of the usual bar-staff came to take her order, she merely shook her head. 'Ice." She said, the word sounding...off somehow. Dry and not well-formed.
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
Arms laden with bottles, I return from the back to find a familiar figure at the counter. She hasn’t been in since the Ark docked and I was about to feel a little hurt. Mik is in the process of getting her something, so I take the time to put the booze where it belongs and wipe off my hands before turning around.
Aaaaand there’s something wrong. I’m smiling but El ain’t. She’s never worn something like that before. I frown and cross my arms, unable to tell if she’s doing it for attention or she’s genuinely upset about something. We’re friendly, but not close in the way that women can sometimes be. So, leaning against the back of the bar, I gesture to Mik that I’ve got this, and after he disappears, ask loudly enough for her to hear, “Who died?” It’s mostly joking.
But really, she looks like she’s in mourning.
she's got a real quick trigger and some new demands
El looks up. Her face is free of makeup, but not in a fresh-faced way. Her lip is swollen and bloody (that explains the strange way she was speaking), and one of her eyes is badly blackened and nearly closed with the swelling. She wants to smirk, to laugh it off like she normally might, but the skin around her lips is far too tight, and she winces even at the thought of her muscles moving.
Watching Mik leave without her ice, Eloise shifts her dark gaze back to Raza before doing her level best not to smile. "Who I gotta fuck to get some ice 'round here?" She grins darkly through the pain, a scab on her lip splitting and letting a fresh drop of blood bloom.
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
“Looks like it’s me,” I retort, watching Mik saunter off without serving El. “S’probably better, you don’t know where he’s been anywray.” Implying that the man has been around and could be carrying god only knows what around his dick. Of course he’d probably say the same about me, so fair’s fair. And I would probably actually fuck her, if she asked. I have far more experience with men, but the petite, pretty ladies have always drawn my wandering eyes.
Reaching down below the lip of the bar, I bring up a handful of ice and pop it into a reasonably clean bar rag. Tying the edges into a knot to keep the pieces in, I hand it over, assuming that the ice is for the nasty black lip she’ll soon be sporting. I follow up the ice with a shot of spiced rum – she can either sip it or shoot it, but it’s the only one on the house today. Once that’s been taken care of, I lean back again and size up the pint-sized bruise. “So. What happened? And what’s with the black?”
she's got a real quick trigger and some new demands
She would ask too, probably, if speaking didn't hurt so fucking much right at this particular moment. Since leaving her old life behind Eloise has become a bit of a free-spirit when it comes to her sexual exploits. She had love once, or something near enough to it, to know that it fucking hurt like a bitch when it ended. El might be up to try anything once, but she wasn't stupid enough to suckle from that particular teet again. So casual sex it was.
" 'anks." Pressing the ice against her lip and snarling at the pain, she looked appreciatively at the amber liquid offered to her. The side of her face not swollen flourished into a pretty smile for just a second, as she swapped cloth for glass, downing the drink in one easy swallow. 'The good stuff even. Lucky me."
Exhaling a long stream through her nose, Eloise looked up towards Raza through the dark veil of her bangs and shrugged. "What? Not a cute look?" Pulling the cloth away, coloured red now, she adjusted the ice before replacing it against her lip. "Got cocky. Paid for it."
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
Sometimes it’s difficult to know how much to pry into someone’s life when they come here. I usually just sit back and ask polite questions and let ‘em spill if they want to talk. But then there’s El and there’s Jack and her well-being could mean his. Chuckling darkly, I shake my head. “Not my type, personally, at the moment, but I’ve got high standards” Underneath the black eye and the bruises and the, El’s still gorgeous and she knows it.
My words, however, seem careless after a thought occurs to me. If it was sexual violence, the joke was in poor taste; that kind of violence is something I won’t fucking stand for and the perpetrators need to be punished - if not by me, then someone else. So after a moment of jokes, I take a step forward to level with her, my voice low and collected. “I ain’t gonna pry too much, cause I know you can take care a yerself, but if it was men and they tried to rape you, I got people who can deal with ‘em.” It’s not Jack. I wouldn’t go to him for this.
I ain’t gonna make a big deal out of it, but as a small woman, she needs to know, so just in case I leave her (briefly) with that thought whilst I refill another patron’s glass.
she's got a real quick trigger and some new demands
For a moment Eloise merely sits, thinking about that. Trying to descend whether or not to be offended (or to take it as a not so subtle hint that Raza's bedroom is permanently off limits to her), eventually she grins (despite the pain it brings). "I think that makes me like you more, for not wanting your women broken and bruised." The illusionist doesn't try for flirtatious, she's too banged up for that, but still her voice carries a sultry cadence just the same.
It was strange, how many of the women in Torchline took rape and other instances of sexual violence as common fare. A sort of tax for living in a world of sand and surf. "Thanks Raza." Eloise says, her voice weighty with genuine appreciation. Turning to spit into a rag as Raza goes to deal with someone else, the illusionist runs her fingers across her eyes for a moment, wanting to sigh loud and dramatically, but swallowing down the urge.
"Has it always been like this here?" El asks when the taller woman replies. This not necessarily referring to the underground economy or illegal movement of goods, but the blatant sexism and unfettered violence towards women.
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
Giving a slight nod at her thanks, I refill a glass for another regular, but my mind is still on El. I want to know what happened, but I also don’t. Knowing would mean I have to potentially do something about it and knowing means emotional entanglement. Keep ‘em all at arm’s length, no matter how pretty the face or satisfying the dick, keep them all as patrons and you’ll never lose business. At the end of the day I’d rather see people who are always glad to be here while in port than a part-time lover I get myself wound up over.
There’s the problem, isn’t it? Me. My reactions to people.
I come back to El and look at the rag to see how much blood is on it. Not too bad, it should all come out. Nodding absently at her question, I lean down to her level, forearms on the bar, stretching my back out a little. “As far as I or my Ma can remember. They say the heat does somethin’ to people, an’ they use that or a hard life as an excuse to be violent pigs. Lotsa drunks, lotsa good ‘fer nothin’ Pas. An’ then the cycle starts again, with street urchins who end up makin’ somethin’ of themselves. “Providin’” for a family means they can do whatever they want.”
No rules. Just the survival of the fittest.
“Women learn how to get by. I guarantee any upper class lady has at least one knife on ‘er in case of emergency. Only difference is street ladies show theirs openly.” She shrugs. “We learn quickly. An’ we got our secret ways of dealin’ with things.” Now she grins a little wickedly, knowing first hand how well the dealin with things can work in a woman’s favor if it all goes right.
she's got a real quick trigger and some new demands
