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!
It had been weeks at sea and a good, long time at port, so this was overdue.
Jack's migraine hit him like a sledgehammer to the temple, and the captain of the Ark had not made it out of his cabin that morning. Unlike the rest of the crew, he did not treat 'shore leave' as literally as they did. The Ark was Jack's baby, and he would not leave her unattended for even a night if he could help it.
That being said, his cabin made it worthwhile when it was compared to the rest of the crew sleeping quarters. With a large window (currently drawn with heavy curtains) out onto the open ocean and a decent sized desk and bunk, Jack practically lived in the lap of luxury aboard his ship.
The cabin was full, too, of all manner of oddities and collected items; scrolls containing numerous maps, some of which would not appear in traditional navigations; a trunk filled with colouful and eclectic clothing; a silk stocking; a glass eye; a strange puzzle cube best left untouched. It would take longer than was worthwhile to explore it all.
Jack, though, obviously wasn't interested in his treasure trove at present. No, the smuggler was face down in his bunk, his head buried in a pillow, doing his best to ignore whatever the world outside was doing.
"OoOooOOh Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaack." Eloise' voice was sing-song and bright, the sort that might pierce like an arrow into the mind of one with a migraine. But how was she to know? Dancing lightly down the stairs towards the captain's cabin—very off limits of course—Eloise swayed slightly with the warm rush of rum in her belly. Her messily pulled back, clothed in what amounted to a bikini made from bits of the sail when it grew too tattered for use, the navigator held a large bottle of something sticky and strong in one hand, and a pair of sunglasses in the other.
"Eloise to Jaaaack. Come in, Jack." As the boat heaved with a wave, Eloise tumbled into the door frame, only just catching herself before she fell to the ground. Spying their fearless leader face down in a pillow, Eloise couldn't help but laugh to herself at just how pathetic and small he was. "Jack you keep up like that and you'n'I are going to be wearing the same size."
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
The sound that was mumbled into the pillow was hoarse and quiet and yet somehow vicious. Whatever it was Jack had just cursed to Eloise, it evidently wished the worst death upon her. The captain did look small and pathetic, though, and that would only become ever more evident as he curled into the bunk. His navigator's thoughts were a slurring cacophony that he wanted nothing to do with. And yet here she was, clanking into his doorframe and interrupting his profound misery.
"If you'd kindly turn the volume down from piercin', that'd be just peachy," he managed, pulling his face out of the bunk enough to squint across at her. Pale and drawn and gaunt, the blue of his eyes was likely the only colour about him right now. "You aint' got anyone else to bother? I'm busy."
"oooh, grumpy captain." Eloise pouted from her place. Liquor and months at sea with Jack had loosened her tongue considerably, the respect she ought to owe him just as ragged as the sails tied 'round her waist. 'I'll show you peachy." She added for good measure.
'I don't actually, everyone's gone into the port. Not that I need to tell you what they're all eager to get themselves some of." Raising the bottle to her lips, she walked towards him, her steps dramatically long as if she were expecting the boat to lurch again beneath her bare feet at any moment. 'Busy doin' what? Y'haven't got your hands down your pants have you." She asked with a frown, not sure she wanted to peer beneath the tangle of blankets.
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
”An’ yet here you are, not at port, botherin’ me. Dunno what you’re after, love, but we’re closed right this minute.” Would Jack, in his right mind and given two chances, miss the opportunity to bed Eloise? Absolutely not. But with one side of his head currently deciding that it wasn’t having any of his shit, he had little choice in the matter.
Oh but she wasn’t leaving at all. No, she was getting closer! Super.
”Like you’d give a fuck if I did,” he grumbled, barely moving save to glare up at her. The blankets weren’t even really necessary, given the heat of torchline, though if Eloise decided to tear them off she’d have quite the surprise. The captain couldn’t have his hands down his pants - he slept bollock naked.
"I just came to see if you needed anything." She waggled the bottle between her fingers ( and her eyebrows) suggestively. Plopping down unceremoniously and uninvited on the side of his bed, Eloise folded her knee and tucked a foot beneath herself as she peered down at Jack.
"You're lookin' a little green 'round the gills, captain. Worse than usual I mean." This latter sentiment was followed up a wink. Though Eloise' flirtatious nature had increased dramatically while on the Ark, still she tempered her quips for Jack with a bit of bite. He really did look off though, her thoughts an unintentional flurry of concern for him that she couldn't quite help. Jack was an asshole and an unapologetic dick most of the time, but he'd taken her in when she'd been a drowned rat clinging to a few boards out at sea, and his venom hadn't quite fully killed her appreciation for that yet.
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
Did Jack need anything? A lot of help, in a lot of different and very detailed ways. But for Eloise right then? He painstakingly shook his head. "Booze prolly ain't the wisest idea for me," he admitted, his tone the one of a man who has definitely tried that particular remedy in the past. He didn't quite know how to react as she sank down onto the side of his bunk, the flurry of concern a strange balm compared to the static of her tipsy thoughts.
"How kind of you to say so," he muttered, rubbing at his forehead, though he had neither the energy nor the pain threshold to be bothered with any real vitriol beyond what he had already tried to summon. "It'll pass. It always does. Sorry to kill your hopes that you might be rid of me." He snorted. "How come you ain't at port, really?"
"Not hair of the dog then, mm?" Eloise murmured almost absently, her head tilted slightly to gaze down at the pathetic skeleton of a man curled so inelegantly beneath the sheets. He really was rather wirey looking, the illusionist had the chance to note, and she vaguely found herself wondering what about him was nonetheless so attractive. His eyes blazed a blue that was almost painfully bright, the line of his jaw and whatever brand of charm he did have, was always just a bit too sharp. But there was something.
"I was planning on going through your underwear drawer. You know. See what I might find hidden." Eloise joked. Maybe. Her thoughts suggested that while it wasn't actually her plan, now that she'd said it she was rather curious. Something told her there'd be a bit of intrigue hidden in there, amidst the plethora of sex toys she was also likely to find.
"You must be hard done by to be asking about me." Eloise tutted in response, finding herself sparsely defensive in the wake of the question. "Come'ere then." Patting the crook of her thigh for him to place his head upon it—it was clear that this was a headache or migraine possibly, and not just a rogue hangover—and she hadn't anywhere else to be anyhow. That, of course, was the answer to his question: at port, all that awaited her were quick flings, pretty smiles, men and women who underestimated her because of her size and appearance. None of it was challenging or interesting.
Not like the sea.
Not like Jack, for that matter.
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
It nearly slipped out - a quip about Eloise not having to think in quite so much detail about how shit he looked or how unlike those balloon muscled assholes he was (here's lookin' at you, Saiden) - and Jack barely contained it behind his teeth. That way lay a sort of madness that he definitely wasn't able to deal with in his current state. "You've seen me operate hungover - have a lil faith," he muttered, before snorting at her comment. "Go right on ahead," he invited. She was already in his cabin - arguably the most personal place he had - and he wasn't in a position to stop her.
"More that I'm wonderin' what hell you've found yourself in to be seekin' out my company over the rest of Torchline. We're stuck together enough on the sea." He scoffed; it was true, though. But aw, she thought he was interesting? And challenging? So sweet. "If you shout in my ear I'm leavin' you behind," he grumbled in warning at her invite, taking a couple of moments to consider it before shifting to abandon the pillow in lieu of her lap. Was it better, or worse? Don't ask Jack. (He'd lie about it anyhow).
"I have yeah, and this ain't a hangover." Eloise returned, her eyes glancing out into the room. No doubt the sort of treasures she'd find accumulated here would make bland any other trove she'd come across in the sea. But of course, having permission took a good deal of the thrill out of it. There was always later, when Jack wasn't around after all.
'Nothin' I can't handle." Eloise lied easily. Illusion magic worked wonders for covering up the many bruises and black eyes that she'd received over the past few weeks. Just what it was she was doing (fencing, smuggling) wasn't anyone's business but her own. And had her thoughts not betrayed her on a regular basis in Jack's company, it might have indeed stayed that way.
"Shut it, you." The illusionist scolded softly, placing the bottle on the floor. Her fingers moved against his temples, her pressure not unlike a vice as she sought to find the epicentre of the pounding she assumed was thrumming in his skill, and hold it captive that his thoughts might flow a bit easier.
'Besides. I'm never stuck anywhere I don't want to be. You know that." So saying the room faded away to a moonlight sea, quiet and serene and dark. The bed bobbed gently in the waves, as the thick scent of post-rain storm settled down heavily around them.
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
"How astute of you," Jack drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes against even the dim light away from his pillows. "It's a fuckin' migraine, if you must get that bee outta your bonnet." And if she thought he was going to not be around later not to catch her with her fingers in his things, she'd be very mistaken indeed. Her comment and the battering of thought that came along behind them was the perfect recipe for his response, Jack blinking open his eyes to stare up at her.
"You're in trouble," he said simply. "How bad?" At that moment, of course, she pressed her fingers into his temples and the captain hissed in a breath of surprise and fought against the urge to turn out of her grip. "Mm, I do know that much, at least," he said. That he disagreed barely seemed to matter, and he raised an eyebrow at the illusion that draped itself around them. A shame that his telepathy cut through it, but Jack tried to stifle that back a bit, lest he be unable to enjoy the soothing darkness and the lap of the waves against the ship.
"Don't be such a baby." The illusionist hissed. If she was going to get blood back into this head of his, the pressure was necessary and he could damn well deal with it. Rolling her fingertips until they were making small circles around his temples and the areas surrounding, she tried to work out the tension while actively not answering his question.
"Trouble? Me? Never. Unless it's the fun kind." The lie was blandly said despite the way Eloise tried to sing out the words. With Jack's bed as their ship, Eloise' one leg appeared to dangle into the waters. Fluttering it back and forth and causing small waves to splash against the bed, or seem to at the very least, the illusionist merely shrugged. "Is what it is." What it was was a rather valuable bit of stolen property, a deal set up for a mageglass trade, and some rather surly assholes who thought they might just cut Eloise out of the deal.
Corpses were far too common a thing on the beaches for anyone to miss one little nobody-illusionist.
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
"Then don't be such a terrible nurse," Jack quipped in return; for someone in a comparatively bad way, he clearly could not stop himself. Still, any fuss made of him was unexpected, and as a man only used to being touched if it was to fight or to fuck, he did not know quite how to react under Eloise's ministrations. So, in pain as he was, Jack opted to be quiet and compliant (probably for the best). He hummed a note of I-clearly-do-not-believe-you in response to her remarks about trouble, the captain gleaning more than she perhaps would have wanted from her resulting thoughts.
"What a terrible platitude," he muttered. "It isn't anythin' you don't make it." But she obviously didn't want to discuss it any further, and so they wouldn't. But that didn't mean Jack forgot one iota of the trouble she was in.
'And here I had you pegged for the type to be into bad nurses." Eloise chimed back just as quickly, her guard well and truly down. Whatever voodoo Jack seemed to have that made him such a force to be reckoned with above deck seemed entirely absent just now. From what she could see anyways—which was just skin and bones covered with tattoos, piercings, and a small sheen of sweat—Jack was just a whiny man, doubled over by SuCh PaIn as all men were when they experienced things not worth bragging over.
As the midnight ocean of her illusion continued to rock them softly and Eloise's fingers continued to work away at the pressure in Jack's skull, she let her mind wander. Details of where she was intending to go later, who it was she was meant to meet and what she had for trade, all bloomed in her mind.
"Heard Raza saying something about the governor. How he hasn't been seen in a while and might be properly missing. You buying it?"
exchanged it for some treasures somewhere along the way
