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!
Asleep in the sun outside the brothel, sadly James missed out on Frey's fuck-magic as it spread through the building, making hard both beams and mean inside. It was only as Ronin and Remi hastily rushed outside, all erect cocks and breathy words, that the snake stirred and shifted, sitting up with interest. And oh, lo and befuckinghold the brothel was suddenly open for business.
"Don't mind if I do." James muttered to himself, reaching for the door that the pair of men had just left from.
Dressed in what was basically just beach trash fashioned into clothing and jewelry, the thief was anything but subtle as he poked his head inside. 'Oy. What's a fella got to do to get a job application 'round here." He called out brazenly, drumming his fingers on the counter.
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
The rappa-tap-tapping on the counter was not something Phoebe had expected - not so soon anyways. And to be fair, she had forgotten the sleeping snake just outside in favor of exploring the wonderful new place Frey had provided. It was perfect. Simply perfect! Her heart overflowed with joy by the time she heard the call of a rather familiar voice. She hadn't heard it in awhile (not counting that morning), but James had a voice that was hard to forget.
"Well, you'd have to speak to the Madame, of course! Don't you know how brothels work?" she called back playfully, in high spirits with the beautiful building she could now call her own. She grinned as she descended the stairs, seeing James lean against the counter. "Hello there, James. I wouldn't have taken you for the working sort." she teased.
"Me? An upstandin' citizen of these shores?" The snake called back indignantly. "Course I do. Only normally it's people callin' fer me not the other way around." Whistling, and pointing quite unsubtly towards his penis, he added, "If y'know what I mean." With James, it was hard not to know what he meant.
"Whadja mean not the werkin' sort?" The lilting irish accent made this accusation sound all the more upset, but his shit-eating grin suggested otherwise. "I'm from here y'know. And you would know that if the last time we'd met y'hadn't all been about my—" Again, he whistled and pointed towards his crotch, giving Phoebe a knowing look.
'Quite the thing y've done here love, although I think I saw two horny customers runnin' out the buildin'. Far be it from me to tell you how t'run your place, but surely y'want the —" Another whistle, but this time James poked one through through a circle made with his other hand. "—t'happen in here?"
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
Phoebe hummed low, a laugh tugging at the tone as she took up her post at the other side of the counter. Sure, she still looked a mess from cleaning ash off the roof, but apparently she was to get started right away. "Is that your resume then, hm?" she teased.
"Would I? As I recall you weren't much for telling me anything in honest Brady." she raised again with a smirk, using the name she had given him when he had declined to offer his real name. "Though if you're here looking for a job, I suppose this meeting is also about your..." she trailed off and gestured to his crotch just as he had moments before.
She laughed at his comment though and shook her head. "No no, not customers. They were here to help me build but Frey appeared and took care of that. But they were....very affected by Frey's presence and like any happily married couple were eager to get home." she explained.
"I mean...not really sure what else you'd be wantin' to know." The thief quipped back with a grin.
Pointing finger guns in her direction as she pointed out the fake name he'd given (nevermind that he wouldn't know about finger guns), James just shrugged. "Well we'd only just met, hadn't'we. Can't just go 'round givin' out me personal information to every broad wot sticks her tongue down my throat." Not that that's how it happened. Their night together had been rather sweet, actually.
'Aye it is. Happy t'give you a reminder of what it is I'm offerin'." He added smartly, as if this really were a proper job interview. "Right sure. Rushin' off to fuck at home when there's a perfectly good brothel right here. Makes sense."
Backing up a step, James raised his hands, framing Phoebe's face with his fingers, then her tits, then her face again. "Somethin's different about you."
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
"Oh quite a few things actually. Frey put me in charge of running this place and keeping the prostitutes that work here safe. To do that will require a bit of rule following and honesty - think you can handle that?" she said, tilting her head to the side. This wasn't some back alley brothel that was a free for all. There would be order amid all that went on, for the sake of the workers. "You'll get your own room, a stocked kitchen and bathroom to share with the other workers in the outbuilding, medical care when you need it, protection from abusive customers, and a stipend from your earnings." she said, laying out everything he'd get in return if he could manage to play by the rules as one of her prostitutes.
She just laughed and shook her head as he skewed the story of their first encounter, knowing there was little point in arguing with him. "Mmmm maybe some other time. My memory is pretty good." she said with a smirk, shrugging at his reference to Ronin and Remi. "To each their own." she said.
Her head tilted, not really sure what he meant by something being different. "Oh, really? Must be the trauma." she said with snicker and a shrug.
"Well that depends." Standing, James neared the counter as if trying to walk the line between intimidating and sensual (and failing, of course). "What will you do t'me if I don't?" Turning, he patted the curve of his ass with a grin. "A spankin'?" He certainly hoped so. James hardly listened to this fairly robust set of perks that came with the job, instead waggling his brows (un)alluringly at Phoebe. "And if I were to get lost on my way to my room, finding m'self in your bed again, no big deal."
Shrugging and sighing his disappointment, James nodded. "Well offers' open anytime." He said reassuringly. "Well if it's that, then trauma looks good on you. Nope, got it." Snapping his fingers, he pointed at her outfit. "Y'aren't dressed like a matronly maid. That's what it is. Y'can see all yer.." His hands made shapely gestures around her breasts and hips, before he thought better of it and let them fall back to his sade. "..y'know, best qualities."
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
Phoebe resisted the urge to chuckle snort at his antics, instead raising a brow, a smirk on her lips. "Oh no, that's a reward not a punishment." she said, shaking her head. "No. If you don't, I'll fire you." she said sweetly, as if talking about something far more pleasant. "Perks of being the boss lady you know." She did laugh a little and put her hands on her hips. "Maybe. Prove you can follow the rules and always be honest with me...and I think I can overlook a few nights of getting lost." she said.
Phoebe looked down at her clothes then - the ash covered tank top and shorter leggings. It was far more revealing than other things she had worn - even Remi had noticed. "I'm trying! Though I figure once I go shopping in town I'll end up dressed like most every other girl around here." she said with a smile. Low cut tops, high slit skirts, little teeny tiny bikinis...yep. She was going to have to adapt alright.
As she caught on immediately to his ploy, the snake straightened and frowned. "Fire me? S'a'little much, doncha' think?" Indeed it seemed that way to him. "I'm a man after all, just a human, just livin' my life and so what if a few rules get broke? We're all just meat puppets who're gonna be fish food one day." Waggling his fingers as if to further emphasize the weighty existential implications of how little rules mattered, he promptly shut his mouth with a grin as she mentioned that her bed might indeed be open.
"Aye aye, I'll be as good as a church mouse." Which, they both knew he wouldn't.
"Honestly, y'could do with a lot less. And not just for the sake of everyone else 'neither. It's hot out here after all. Wouldn't want y'to get heat stroke. Just think of everyone here who depends on you." There was of course, no one yet, but his point still stood. "Less is better love, it really is." So saying, he crossed his arms and grinned. "Y'could start now if y'like."
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
She couldn't help but laugh at his complaint, crossing her arms. "Oh yes, woe is you, the meat puppet being offered 3 square a day plus snacks that may or may not have your favorite herb in them, a warm bed with frequent visitors, pay, and free medical for the low low price of your best behavior and sexual prowess" she tutted, a smirk curving her lips. "I'm not asking for perfect, just that you try and not cause me trouble ok? If you can do that, consider yourself hired." she said, holding out a hand to shake.
She sighed, tightening the messy, ash covered bun on her head. Indeed, it was far too hot for the sorts of things she usually wore. "Hmmm how about this instead, give me a chance to clean up, you get settled in whichever room on the first floor here you like, and then you can help me pick out a dress in town. Something Torchline and James approved."
Though he absolutely wanted to argue with that, occasionally James knew enough to keep his mouth shut. So instead, he reached out and rather than shaking her head, held it softly in his and placed a kiss to the top of it.
Holding his breath and then releasing it in a disappointed whooooosh as she turned him down, the thief ran his tongue over his teeth. "Oh aye, I'll get t'unpackin' all me things then shall I." Looking around to emphasize how very little he had (nothing), he brightened considerably to hear of their shopping trip.
'Fine, fine. Just holler when yer all freshened up." So saying, the snake would wander down the hall, trying to find the best that was both the largest, and bounciest to call his own.
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
Phoebe knew he was bound to break rules. She knew he would still get in some trouble. But the fact that he not only had the restraint to not push his luck further and respond instead with a very gentlemanly gesture was a sign that he could live within some boundaries. If he had to - by which she meant if pot brownies were in the deal. "Well now that you've a room all your own, perhaps you can start collecting some things." Phoebe teased with a grin. "Besides, you've got first pick - just stick to the first floor if you would. The ladies will be on the second floor." she said before heading back upstairs to her own new abode in the attic.
She made quick work of showering off the ash and grime that covered her, donning a light sun dress (which was still far too modest by Torcher standards), before making a little door sign - writing 'James' in a tropical green, calligraphy style hand. As she headed back down she did indeed holler. "James, dear, what room did you pick?" she called, not realizing Branbast was trailing behind her.
Tucking away that bit of knowledge, James eventually found a room to call his own. It was far too light and pretty for his taste, and annoyingly any attempt to mess up the room seemed to be magically thwarted. His sheets stayed pristine, the other bed linens seemingly do their best to stay perfectly tucked in. "Cock." He muttered under his breath, giving the bedpost a half-hearted kick before grabbing it and giving it a good shake to see how sturdy it was.
He found it quite sturdy indeed.
"Why don't you cum down here an'find out?" Some say you can't hear the difference with homonyms, but those people have clearly never met James. If and when Phoebe found him, she'd see James in just his underwear, arms and legs flailing on the bed as if trying to make a snow-angel in his sheets.
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
Phoebe's laughter could likely be heard as she descended the stairs. The way in which he said the word was what indicated the homonym in use. Placard in hand she looked around the first floor until she found the room with a door ajar. Stepping in she blinked in surprise to see James flailing about in his underwear on the bed...but somehow it seemed he was perfectly in his element like that. "I see you found one you like; good!" she said, placing his name placard up on the outside of the door.
She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head at him. "Do you still want to go shopping with me or are you...having too much fun now?" she said with a light laugh.
