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!
Words are slowly becoming solid, and though it won't be anything poetic and worthy of what Ronin has done, Remi at least thinks he knows how to hint at how he feels about seeing himself rendered with such care. His heart stutters as the hel breaks in, his lips not even moving as Ronin kisses the side of his mouth and goes to take care of the intruder.
Spinning his chair, watching his hero of a husband—a man raised from the dead and praised by a goddess herself—shooting stars at a mischievous bird, fills Remi with a joy he simply can't contain. Bursting out laughing, he pulls one leg up onto his chair and wraps a hand around his calf, content to watch this absurdity play out.
With his other hand, Remi 'claps' it against his thigh, shooting his husband an entirely bemused look. "Gods, I can't even imagine what I'd do with you." Mischeviously said, he does mean every single word. Grabbing one of the triangles, Remi waggles it towards Ronin. "Come on, hero. You've...bunts? to cut out."
Who are you? They ask. Death? Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Of course, at the sound of the applause - Ronin is shutting the window to keep any more mischievous birds out - he turns to his husband, sweeping into an elegant bow worthy of any blue blood with a smile creeping across his lips. ”I can think of a few things,” he remarks, winking ever-so-charmingly at Remi before returning to the kitchen. ”Though you can leave my bunts out of this, thank you very much.”
Leaning in, he kisses Remi’s crown of soft curls, slouching back into his seat and tidying up his triangles into a neat little pile. A pile that he keeps out of the Alchemist’s waggling reach. ”There’s another one, you know. If you flick to the back of the book.” He nods at the sketchbook without looking at it, seeming nervous all over again. ”Perhaps we could put that on Aoife’s grave as well.”
If Remi looks at the back of the sketchbook, he’ll find a small but detailed piece in pencil. It’s of their daughter with the Alchemist, Aoife sitting on Remi’s lap with joy written across her features, the two of them reading some book of bedtime stories or another. ”I meant to finish it, or make something more of it, but...” He doesn’t need to finish, he thinks. Remi gets it.
soft spoken with a broken jaw we step outside, but not to brawl
"I quite like your bunts." The Alchemist pouts, his eyes firmly on Ronin's ass and not the triangles littering the table. Humming a note of contentment as the Star kisses him and sits down, Ronin will feel the Alchemist's heart stutter and stumble as he references the book again.
Putting down his wine glass and reaching for the cover almost hesitantly, Remi flips to the back as instructed. The depiction steals his breath and his very soul. It isn't him he looks at, but her. Gods, it's her.
Choking back a sound of laughter and sorrow, Remi reaches out for Ronin's hand, clutching it fiercely as his eyes scan the page. "It's perfect." He whispers, biting the inside of his cheek as tears immediately streak down his face. His heart is hammering, and if he thought he was at a loss for words before, it's nothing compared to now. "Perfect."
Who are you? They ask. Death? Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Well, these bunts are all for you, so I’m glad you like them,” Ronin says with a bright smile, pouring all of his concentration into the bunting to avoid looking at anything else (namely, the sketch of his husband and daughter). He swallows hard, and only when Remi speaks does he finally glance across, tears stinging his eyes as well at the look on the Alchemist’s face. Their fingers lace together, Ronin lifting their hands so he could kiss the back of Remi’s palm.
”Almost,” he whispers, scooting his chair across to press his lips to a stubbled cheek. ”It won’t ever be perfect, because she’s not here. But... almost.” With a sad laugh that barely counts as one, he lets out a shuddery breath and gazes down at the sketch at last, at the smiling face of their daughter. ”We’ll keep it,” he decides - rather than putting it on her grave, they can keep this small memento.
soft spoken with a broken jaw we step outside, but not to brawl
Looping his arm around Ronin to draw him close, Remi just stifles an awkward sound that's both agreement and the start of an argument. It's only when Ronin mentions keeping the drawing, that Remi loses hold of his emotions entirely. He'd been thinking the words this entire time, wanting to keep it instead of letting the elements tear her face away as would surely happen on her grave, but had decided against it. Though Remi wasn't sure where the line of appropriate selfishness was, this, he thought, was perhaps a step over it. He had her in his memories, and wasn't that enough?
But as Ronin spoke the words he'd so wanted to, he realized that no. No, it absolutely wasn't. Gods how he needed every part of Aoife that remained in the world.
"Thank you." He whispers, a bubble of melancholy laughter breaking through his lips and making his whole body tense for a moment. "I'll make her two flower crowns to make up for it.."
Who are you? They ask. Death? Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
He can’t help the smile on his face as Remi pulls him closer, the Star slipping his arms around his husband and stealing a quick kiss that will leave glitter on his lips. ”Anything for you.” And Ronin means it, if that isn’t obvious by the contents of the sketchbook; he will break rules and kill innocents for the man in his arms - hopefully nothing ever pushes him so far. Gazing down at the sketchbook for a small moment longer, he nods and sits back, giving Remi’s hand a squeeze.
”Two flower crowns, then. I think she will accept that price.” He smiles at the pencil rendition of their daughter, then turns back to his ridiculous triangles. ”Come on then,” he says, his voice roughened by grief but warmed by love, ”I’m doing all the work here. I want to see the most obnoxious flower crown you can make.”
soft spoken with a broken jaw we step outside, but not to brawl
The choked way that the Alchemist can't form the words is as much of a And I, for you, as had he spoken them out loud. As Ronin pulls back, the moment is made entirely them by the glitter on the Star's lips: grief, and love, and a bit of inappropriate amusement thrown in for good measure.
"Oh are you." Remi grunts, side-eyeing the triangles with obvious contempt. "Arts and crafts are one thing, but you can't rush genius, Ronin." The Alchemist reminds the Star with a haughty raise of his chin. Swiping at the tears still moistening his eyelashes (and giving himself a healthy amount of glitter in their place), Remi looks at the empty table with a thoughtful expression.
His organic magic isn't what it once was. He won't be able to make the buds dance or smile, but at least he can make the things imagined in his mind. Dusky-blue flowers that looked like stars suddenly appeared, as did a fistful of Belladonna: the two flowers they'd picked to represent each other on their wedding day. Between them a vibrant shock of orange appeared—a bird of paradise for Vanya. Sitting back, smug at his choices but still tempered by the drawing of Aoife he'd leaned up to watch over them as they worked, Remi glances over at Ronin to see if he's picked up on the imagery.
Who are you? They ask. Death? Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”Oh do forgive me - I forgot I was in the presence of such genius,” Ronin drawls, though the smile on his face betrays his true feelings. Whilst his husband gets to work on his magically impressive crowns, Ronin deals with the more mundane task of the bunting. With all of his triangles meticulously cut out, he takes each one to decorate it. Doodles of the two of them appear on each one, and occasionally Sugar or Isla - gifts for their daughter, so she won’t forget them.
That done, he begins to paint them in careful, pastel colours - about the time that Remi is done with the crown. Glancing sidelong at the Alchemist, his eyes catch on the vibrance of the blooms, of their significance - because of course he remembers. The flowers coupled with the glitter on his husband’s eyelashes, the spill of sparkles on his shirt; it has Ronin smiling stupidly with affection.
”You’re adorable. And it’s beautiful,” he tells him.
soft spoken with a broken jaw we step outside, but not to brawl
"I understand. You've been so focused on your triang—bunting—after all." But actually, once Remi sees that the triangles end up being so much more than just shapes, he happily eats his words. Ribbing each other aside, the Alchemist is infinitely content to sit in creative silence with the Star as they both go about their tasks.
While Remi has a habit of covering himself in the chaos of whatever he's currently working on (somehow, he has managed to get leaves in his hair already), Ronin is far more careful and intentional than many might think. The urge to smear the pastel paint on the hunter's bare chest is nearly overwhelming, but instead, Remi merely crinkles his nose as if Ronin's affectionate remark is detracting from his creation.
"What's that?" Remi asks, pointing towards the hunter's chest. If Ronin looks down Remi will instantly boop his nose with paint, before grinning stupidly. Should the Star be wise to his tricks, you ask? Well. Then the paint will go on Ronin's nipple, of course.
Who are you? They ask. Death? Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”Yes, my bunting,” Ronin agrees with a smug grin, glancing from his husband back to his project - that is, until Remi asks his question. Having been concentrating so hard, he completely falls for it, the Star looking down at his chest only to fight bright paint streaked across his nose. ”Oi!” he objects with a laugh, swatting at his husband (but being very careful indeed not to put the little triangles at risk).
So, scooting away from the table and all the precious things upon it, he seizes a handful of broken beads and leans in to try and stuff them down the front of Remi’s pants. ”How’d you like it?” he demands, rubbing the leaves further into Remi’s hair for good measure.
soft spoken with a broken jaw we step outside, but not to brawl
Remi grins triumphantly, but his victory is short-lived. With a snarl of surprise as the hand shoved down his pants deposited a bunch of beads, Remi shoves his chair back hard enough that it falls over. "It..Ahh..AHH!" The Alchemist whines as the beads find ever nook and cranny within which to lodge themselves. Removing his pants and underwear immediately (it seems the logical thing to do), the now-naked Remi stomps after Ronin. "You're lucky I don't have tentacles anymore." He says threateningly.
Caring very little that their house has no chance of ever looking the same again, Remi has grabbed a fistful of glitter that he intends to rub in Ronin's chest hair (and his ears, if he can manage it). "And for my next trick, I am going to lap my wine with my tongue." He hisses as if Ronin's feigned outrage earlier when he'd dunked his sandwich in his wine had been genuine.
Who are you? They ask. Death? Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Ronin had hoped to startle and surprise, but as the chair falls over and his husband provides such marvellous entertainment, the Star can barely breathe for his laughter. He’s already run into the living room by the time Remi makes his pursuit, cackling and trying to hide behind the couch. ”I feel lucky, don’t you wor— NO!” He’s flailing at the glitter, noticing it not quite in time, and his attempts to push him away only culminate in getting glitter everywhere, including his chest hair and his ears.
”You can use that tongue for something better than that,” he growls, trying to capture Remi’s wrists so that he could drag him closer, leaning in to steal a kiss from his lips, making sure they are both well and truly covered in glitter.
soft spoken with a broken jaw we step outside, but not to brawl
Breathless with joy as Ronin is transformed into the shiny, rainbow-covered version of himself that he was always meant to be, Remi is easily subdoed and even more easily kissed. "Ronin?" The Alchemist whispers sweetly, the sparkles by his eyes casting prisms of light over his vision and making Ronin look absolutely breathtaking. Wrapping an arm around the Star and holding him close, Remi's fingers splayed across his lower back, the Alchemist leans in to press his lips against the colourful shell of Ronin's ear. "I love you so much."
It's on the so that an ice cube forms in Remi's hand, pressed low on the hunter's back where his muscles fade away into his spine. Letting the ice cube fall away, hopefully directly down into the Star's pants, Remi leans forward to try and douse any curses or gasps of surprise that may come with his lips.
Who are you? They ask. Death? Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Ronin melts into the kiss, his hands roaming over his (now conveniently naked) husband, the Star smiling against Remi’s lips and reaching down to gleefully squeeze his bunts as payment for the glitter bombing. ”Mm?” he asks, head tilting to let the Alchemist press his lips to the shell of his ear.
It’s a beautiful moment, truly, which makes the betrayal sting all the more. Any arousal he might have been feeling vanishes at the flash of freezing cold against his back, Ronin arching forward against Remi and struggling to try and get away all at the same time. ”Remi!,” he gasps, trying to squirm away and failing miserably.
”You’re a monster,” he hisses, ending up wiggling out of his pants as well in an attempt to shake the ice cube out of them.
soft spoken with a broken jaw we step outside, but not to brawl
