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!
Setting his glass down, the captain watched her as she spoke - and it would probably infuriate the fuck out of her, but a small smile curled across his lips. Indeed, Jack even let out a little laugh, as if it had just dawned on him that no one would want to come near her with a barge pole. "Well fuck, I didn't think of that," he said, and if anything he seemed pleased by it; not much went over Jack's head, and if he was being blackmailed to fuck and back, at least Eloise got to suffer for it too. (Yes, yes, the fact that she probably wouldn't have done it if he hadn't treated her like shit, blah blah blah).
"What's up, can't take care of yourself?" he asked, unable not to take a pop at her when they had both been fucking miserable for what felt like forever for something that seemed really quite unnecessary. Schooling his expression into something a little less shit-eating, he sighed to her. "Explains why you're clingin' to me like a limpet every night too. Didn't think I was your type."
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
Oh, it did infuriate her. Not necessarily wanting to add to the mess around him, but equally unable to help the rising pulse of frustration, Eloise lobbed her empty glass at his chest with a look of scorn. "Fuck you."
At the masturbation jab, Eloise just rolled her eyes. "Even I've only got two hands. And not that you'd know anything about it," (his magic being what it was), "-but there's something satisfying about not knowing what to expect. Can't really manage that on my own, illusions or no." Because at the end of the day, whatever scenario she conjured, whomever it was she saw, she was still artist and canvas both.
"Don't flatter yourself. You're fucking warm is what you are. If you weren't so fucking cheap and we could keep the coals burning all night long, I'd stay well on my side." Though much as she hated to admit it, in the moments just before proper wakefulness when it wasn't exactly clear who she was curled up against, it was rather nice. But it was hard to keep that golden feeling when she realized the man next to her was likely thinking about how to best kill her.
I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em
Eyes widening a fraction as she threw the glass at him, Jack just about managed to catch it before it either smashed against him or fell on the floor, both of which would result in a great deal of broken glass he couldn't be bothered to deal with. "Like you would," he said in response to her quip; fuck him, indeed.
"Ain't half as satisfyin' as what I can do," he said as he poured another glass of rum, his tone one of simple honesty, devoid of the boastful sort of pride that usually accompanied such claims. He scoffed into his drink at the implication that he was a glorified hot water bottle, knocking back the second drink. "Yeah? I ain't cheap, Eloise - don't lie to us both. And I've been on this ship years without seein' a cold Deepfrost. Try again."
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
As for that, not even Eloise's mind had a coherent answer.
'Oh I bet. Because hearing some barmaid or bloke thinking about all the washing up they've got to do at home while they pretend to choke themselves on your cock has got to just really be great." Actually, not that she wanted to think about it, but it probably would be horrible. How many fucked Jack out of fear, having no idea he heard every shitty thing they had to think about him? He already told her he didn't get off on that sort of thing.
The illusionist just sniffed as her bluff was called, reaching out to magically grasp the glass she'd throw and try to fill it with the bottle unless her childishness had lost her the right to drink. Which, well, she'd accept that as punishment.
'Maybe I'm just used to a warmer climate.' But that wasn't it; Northaven wasn't cold, but it was no Torchline.
I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em
Raising his eyebrows, a smirk still curling at his lips, the captain grabbed the bottle from the air as it lifted up, if only so he could refill Eloise's glass himself. He rose to his feet and held it out to her, as if in silent reminder that not asking or saying anything before acting was precisely her problem, in his opinion.
"Yeah? You reckon that's what goes through their heads?" he said, quietly enjoying her vitriol and the shade thrown his way, only because he knew he could rest on the laurels of his own experiences. "Maybe you're just starved of attention, love," he retorted with a shrug.
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
At first Eloise thought Jack was indeed going to wrench the bottle away, and she had half a mind to tug extra hard on it with her magic only to let it go, in the hopes it'd cover him. But there'd been enough damage to his property, and given the sun wasn't even up yet, she decided to leave it. Which, turned out to be in her favour. Still, she watched warily as he rose and held out the cup to her, expecting him to bash it against her temple or pour it into her lap, as hand it to her.
"Well, I didn't think I'd have to mention the obvious Oh, I thought it'd be bigger, or why does it curve to the left so much?./" She retorted. Though having seen him naked enough to know this wasn't true was hardly the point.
Shooting him a glare, her lip actually flinching into a snarl for a moment, Eloise widened her eyes in sarcastic surprise. "Do you fucking think so Jack? Could it be? Gee, why hadn't I fucking thought of that." Hitting herself on the forehead with the heel of her hand, she tipped back her head and laughed, sounding feral and reckless. "Oh right. I did. That whole bit about how no one around here will look at me. You should have seen Zephyr nearly swallow his own fucking tongue at the way I was dressed to help him with his stupid maps."
I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em
It was easy, now, to let the barbs and ranting go, though Jack was almost completely certain that he was making her angrier and angrier by refusing to rise to the bait. (And maybe he wanted to do that a little bit. Maybe he was enjoying it a lot. Surely not, though - that didn't sound like Jack at all).
"I mean, if you hadn't been walkin' around wearin' little more'n a fishnet, Zeph prob'ly would've been able to find his tongue a bit better," he pointed out - thoroughly unhelpfully, as it turned out.
"And for the record, those maps are very important. Now drink that and stand up," he said, nodding at the rum he'd given to her and stepping back from the bed.
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
"I was dressed for the weather." Which was to say, hardly at all. And what she had been wearing had been tight in all the right places. And...if a little illusion magic had been tossed into the mix to pad areas Eloise' thin frame hadn't grown on her own, what of it? She was fucking starved for attention and being reduced to flaunting herself around like the catch of the day only to be rebuked was hardly helping her temper or tension.
"Yes, yes, so important." Eloise agreed with a roll of her eyes (though in fact, she did agree). She had quite liked helping, if only because it gave her something to do, and unlike with Jack, Zeph actually let her be good at something.
"Why, you wanna see if you grew taller overnight?" The top of Eloise' head neatly came up to about Jack's nose (at least when he wasn't stomping about in boots). But still, she did as she was told. Drinking the rest of her rum and letting the cup fall from her hand onto the sheets, Eloise wriggled her way towards the edge of the bed and stood.
I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em
You were dressed for attention. Jack nearly said it before he could convince his brain to stop him, only because he'd already had a glass thrown at him and other insults and threats of fuck knew what else. That, neatly alongside the letters she had standing by and waiting to send to all the Big Important People in Caido at least gave the captain a little pause. And what was it Eloise had described herself as? A show dog? Whatever the fuck that was.
Jack wasn't wearing boots currently, so if anything he had grown shorter overnight, but that wasn't the point of the exercise. "No. Now listen because I ain't sayin' this again. If you fuckin' hit me, I'm gonna hit you back." Why that might come up at all would be abundantly clear as he reached out to tilt up her chin, leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss that, based on her incredibly wrong assumptions of him thus far, would be a surprise and a half. That was what she had wanted, right? The unexpected? If nothing else it would shut her up for a second.
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
Eloise narrowed her eyes at that, wondering what the preemptive warning was meant to foreshadow. Probably some stupid assignment he had for her that she'd interpret as being insulting (because it would be). But if he didn't want the 'threat' of her fists, then why tell her to—
—oh. That was why.
For a minute Eloise was too stunned to do much of anything, least of all kiss him back. He tasted like rum unsurprisingly, and though it was more or less what she had asked for, it was still Jack and she...well. She had no fucking idea how she felt about that.
Her body did though.
As her lips parted and her tongue slid forward against his, Jack would feel...a dampening. A quieting. Her thoughts were hushed possibly because of his lips against hers, but the lazy thoughts of the crew? The noise of his magic? Hushed.
I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em
At least this way they would both get something out of this shitstorm of a situation, and it wasn't as though Eloise hadn't already made it very clear about how attractive she was and could be at a moment's notice. Still, what the captain had told her out at the dock that lazy afternoon had been true - a pretty body was good to fuck and all, but a pretty mind? Far more interesting.
And it started off so well, the captain's hands gliding gently along her hips and around her waist, as if to pull her closer, a teasing promise of all the attention and touch she had been missing out on. Only then it all simply... stopped.
The feedback of her thoughts. The lull and hum of the crew belowdecks. All of it - gone. Drawing back from their kiss, Jack narrowed his eyes a fraction, as if trying to hear something too far out of reach. "What did you do?"
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
To say she's been starved had apparently been an understatement. Jack's hands, rough as they were, still ignited goosebumps along her flesh and without any sort of permission or encouragement, she leaned forward against him without any of the many reservations she ought to have had.
As he pulled away, something like shame now colouring her cheeks as he asked her a question she didn't understand in the least, Eloise huffed out a breath to try and hide how breathless he'd made her. "What did I...you fucking kissed me." She said, meeting his gaze accusatorily. "Jack." Shoving his shoulder roughly with her hand (in part just to fucking feel him again much as she hated to admit it), as get his attention back.
I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em
"No, I'm aware of that," Jack said, searching her eyes now as if they might hold some clue to the sudden silence in his head. "I meant what did you do to my magic. Or is this just some kind of cherry on the top of a shit sundae, threatenin' to tell everyone about me only to make it so I can't do anythin'?" Trying (badly) to hide what was clearly rising panic, the captain raked a hand through his hair, stepping back as he was shoved by her.
And as he was pushed away, all of a sudden in it came, thoughts flooding him like an old friend (who was occasionally unwelcome and occasionally wrecked the place). That just led to further confusion however - and totally killed whatever mood he'd been trying to create. "What the fuck, Eloise?"
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
'What the fuck are you talking about?' Eloise demanded in return, having precisely no idea what new defence system her body had apparently been incubating.
Realizing only after she'd shoved him that he was likely to do it back (he'd been more than clear about it all being tit for tat), Eloise braced herself, but received only more questions of her she couldn't answer. As her frustration rose, both sexual and regular, whatever magical spasm she'd experienced when he'd kissed her subsided and her flighty and furious thoughts screamed towards him in a flood. Thoughts of being used and tricked, tempted and teased only to be berated like some child found eating dirt.
I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em
