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’s warm, and despite the fact Sunjata’s a furnace himself, his fever is certainly adding to the warmth of the room. There are times where he’s positive he can’t move, that to do so might throw the world off its axis. There are times where he’s sure that he’s a speck of dust, floating through the wind as the sun peeks through the glass of the window above the bed.
He’s currently trailing the shadow, watching the sun as it moves slowly across the glass, snickering each time a shadow crosses over it and blocks it momentarily. And when it comes back, always a grin and perhaps the quiet muttering of ‘peekaboo’.
But then it’s blocked completely, the room in darkness for the most part aside from the brief outline of a shape outside of the window. So of course he’s curious, sitting up in bed, hardly wearing any clothes at all and yet tucked into the blankets all the same, his head tilts toward the window to spy Ronin.
Of course, the Flood opens the window — kneeling in the bed now as he stares at the man on the other side. “Ronin? How is the house going to grow if you’re blocking all its sunlight?”
hard drugs, fake love; it's a sensation makes one hell of a collaboration
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Ronin has come to tell Sunjata that he no longer needs him to stand in as Governor for a week. That he’s had to call his break with Remi off because his husband has come down with something, and he can’t really risk having that on a ship with very little medical intervention nearby. What he doesn’t count on is Jata being sick too. He’s perched on his nimbus at the window, reaching out to tap at it when the Arbiter opens it himself - and Ronin barely needs to hear him speak to know.
”I guess it must be going around,” he says to himself, smiling gently in at his friend. ”Sorry, Jata. Can I come in? You look like you could use some company. You feeling unwell too?” He doubts the other man has enough sense right now to even tell him as much, but it’s worth a go.
Sunjata has no idea what Ronin means by it going around. So he easily ignores it for the follow up question. “I’ve worked very hard to make sure it has the right amount of sunlight.” He murmurs, but flashes Ronin a grin regardless, moving over to the side to let Ronin through the window. “You’re always welcome to come through my window, Ronin.” He waves a hand before sinking back into the blankets and pulling them over his scarred chest.
Once Ronin was presumably within the room, he focuses his attention on the Star and pats the bed. “I feel perfect. I just haven’t left the room because somebody is blocking it and won’t move.” He points to the door that’s cracked, nobody on either side, but the Flood glares at it all the same. “He’s being quite the dick about it actually — Oh! Did you bring snacks?” Sitting up in the bed now, his attention snaps to Ronin with a toothy, fanged grin.
hard drugs, fake love; it's a sensation makes one hell of a collaboration
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Ronin sidles in through the window, waving away his nimbus and settling on the side of the bed as directed. ”Well, I’m glad. We wouldn’t want your house to wilt and die, would we?” He smiled, following Sunjata’s gaze over to the partially open door, seeing absolutely nothing on the other side (not that saying such a thing would make a difference). ”How dare he,” he says of the imaginary intruder. ”What are you going to do with yourself, since you are currently locked in here?”
As for snacks, apparently, and Ronin furrows his brow at the suddenly so-very-cheerful Arbiter sitting up in bed. ”I didn’t, sorry. What can I do to make it up to you? It’s a bit rude of me, to come without even bringing snacks.”
“Absolutely not.” He rumbles with a fair amount of agreement. He’d made this house into something beautiful. The last thing he wanted was for it to wither and die. What would he tell Nate? But then he’s glancing to the door, a sharp narrowed glare sent its way before he’s focusing on the Star again under the prospect of snacks.
And without having them? Well, he deflates a small amount, laying back in the bed and shifting the blankets so they might cover most of him, despite the sheen of sweat that’s coating his warm body. “Maybe I’ll wither up and die.” He comments, referring to Ronin’s initial question, before his head is tilting on the pillow and he’s focusing on Ronin the best he can again. “It‘s okay. I forgive you. This time only though.” He snorts, before he’s staring at the wall again.
As for how Ronin can make it up to him? He squints a bit at the Star, mulling it over. “I was thinking of taking a nap and waiting until he’s gone, but then I got distracted by the sun. Then I got distracted by you.” A small half grin forms on his face. “You ever play spoons?” He asks, gesturing to a deck of cards and a variety of daggers on the table beside the bed — very much imagining them as spoons.
hard drugs, fake love; it's a sensation makes one hell of a collaboration
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
”Then I had better be sure to visit you again soon and make sure to bring them,” Ronin says of the snacks, a light laugh rumbling from his chest. He shakes his head; this is exactly like talking to Remi except Sunjata is keeping himself tucked up in bed for the time being, instead of climbing all over him with his fever heat. (Not that Ronin minds at all, or would trade it for anything, but it is nice to be able to breathe).
He grins back at Sunjata. ”I’m quite distracting,” he agrees, leaning back on one hand and watching the Arbiter get comfy again in bed like a kid waiting for his parents to come home from working. ”Spoons? No, I can’t say I... have...” His eyes have landed, of course, on the very much not spoons nearby, the Star letting out a slow whistle. ”Have you ever played I-Spy?”
Ronin’s getting up as he speaks, remembering Remi trying to strike his thumb on the blade of a knife (a lighter, he had learned later). It feels like a safer game than spoons, and he’s surreptitiously gathering up the daggers to put them somewhere out of the way as they chat.
A knowing glance is given to Ronin, a small grin beginning to spread as soon as the Arbiter’s mentioned Ronin’s distracting. “You are. It’s unfair, really.” He hums, settling back into the blankets a bit – shifting the covers and furs here and there as if he can’t quite get them comfortable. “Nothing’s fair, though, is it?” He trails off, tone hitting a bit darker, a bit deeper, before he’s nodding his head at the question.
Then, without anything said, his brows pull together and lips pout a small amount, his steel gaze attempting to focus on anything in the room that might be worth ‘spying’. “I… Spy…” He hums, voice thickening in his accent before he realizes what he ‘sees’. “Something blue.” His gaze flickers back to Ronin as navy feathers flicker down his shoulders, some of the feathers peaking through the burn to his shoulder appear almost as if they’re singed.
“What do you spy? You spy on Remi don’t you. You have to.” It’s a bit of a rumbling mess, slipping in and out of different words. “Hoekom sou jy nie.”
Hoekom sou jy nie – why wouldn’t you?
hard drugs, fake love; it's a sensation makes one hell of a collaboration
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
09-03-2020, 06:10 PM (This post was last modified: 09-03-2020, 06:11 PM by Ronin.)
I will fight the end
Ronin can’t help but chuckle, the Star having safely hidden away anything sharp in the near vicinity, straightening up and returning to Sunjata. He snorts at the sight of the other man fussing and fidgeting, tugging at the blankets and furs and lifting them so Jata can wriggle down into the bed. ”You’ll feel better if you lay down,” he promises him, tucking the covers around him like he’s tucking a kid in before bedtime.
”Something blue, huh?” He smirks, glancing very obviously at the navy feathers, perching on the edge of the bed again. ”Could it be... my eyes?” he wonders, tilting his head as Sunjata continues. ”The fuck did you just call me?” Ronin hasn’t got the foggiest idea what his friend has just said, but it sure as fuck sounds made up. ”Of course I spy on Remi. I’m helping to spy on him right now.” Astral projections and all that.
He’s not sure he remembers the last time he was tucked into bed. At least, not like this, not with the fatherly touch that Ronin gives. He’s not sure he’s ever been tucked in, least of all by his father. So he lets Ronin fix the blankets, tuck him in, tired steel gaze lingering along Ronin’s face when a surprised look crosses his own. “How did you know?” He asks, because he’s already forgotten what the blue thing was he’d spied and Ronin gave him the perfect out.
His head nuzzles into the pillow a bit more once Ronin takes a seat, the Flood rolling over onto his side. “I said ‘you spy on Remi, don’t you?’” He rumbles, not knowing which part of the sentence he’d slipped into Korofi with. But there’s an amused grin that spreads across his face when Ronin admits to it, a hand lifting from the blankets to tug Ronin closer into the bed with him. “You’re a good spy.” There’s a soft sigh that slips from him and the exhaustion settles in his mind like a blanket of sleep calling his name.
“Make sure the house grows… A nap sounds nice.” Like shutting blinds, Sunjata’s lids close, his breathing patterns shift into something else, something smoother and less ramped up, taking not long to fall into a deep sleep. The world in his dream is vibrant, colorful, but cold, tall buildings lining a steep river, cars driving past a parade of sorts that waits at the apex of a bridge. There's a line of adults, of parents, their hands resting on the shoulders of a handful of boys all around the age of five or six while holding umbrellas to ward off the thundering rain.
hard drugs, fake love; it's a sensation makes one hell of a collaboration
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
There’s very little point in Ronin responding to anything Jata says, because he’s already talking about napping and bundling himself up in the blankets before the Star can even consider the answer to the first question. He’s glad that the Arbiter goes down without a fuss, in truth, though the hand that reaches out to snag him tugs him back onto the bed.
Sighing and smiling ruefully at the other man, Ronin settles against the headboard, sitting up with Sunjata curled at his side. He’ll stay for just a little while, he tells himself. Just until he’s sure his friend won’t randomly wake up and look for knives.
Except that isn’t quite how it goes, and Ronin realises it as the rain begins to fall around him in the darkness. He’s more accustomed to this, as time goes on, to realising when he’s sneaking into someone’s dreams. The result, of course, is that he’s learning to do it seamlessly, like now; the Star has barely noticed that he’s fallen asleep, let alone that he’s slipped into Jata’s subconscious.
He forces himself to look up - and when he does, there’s rain pelting off a helmet that he’s wearing, the tinted visor showing him children, parents, a family he’s been sworn to protect. He feels leather and Kevlar snug around his body - not that he knows what that is, and the weight of the gun in his hands is a familiar one, even if he doesn’t know (or does he) how to use it).
It’s a miserable and rainy day in Korofi. But aren’t most of them that way?
The rain patters, a tinkling sound as it begins to fall in waves. Below the bridge, the river’s swollen, it rampages as it tears debris down it, a few branches here and there. And Sunjata – seen here as a small, young, lanky boy, his hand sneaking up to squeeze into his mother’s. The woman that stands there is tall, next to a gruff looking man, sprinkling of grey hairs, clean shaven as always with a scar that trails down his cheek.
The man notices the hand that sneaks up, his grey gaze – one so similar to Sunjata’s now – snapping to it and narrowing, as his larger hand reaches for the boy, tearing him away from his mother. “I don’t want to.” He says quietly, only for his father to hear, but as always it goes ignored. Instead, his father drags him to the edge of the bridge, a nod granted to the other parents there.
They all line up, and Sunjata’s father kneels before the boy, staring into his eyes while Sunjata’s hands tremble at his side. A large hand lifts to press against the boy’s chest, surprisingly gentle of an action while Sunjata fights to keep his emotions in check, tries to be the good and strong son even if he feels anything but. His father nears him then, to whisper in his ear. ‘Do not come back up.’
A gunshot rings, and the hand at the boy’s chest shoves him off the bridge while everyone crowds around to see. Five boys enter the river, only Sunjata knows how many will make it out.
i said i saw you in the water
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
The scene stretches out like a play, Ronin able to see and hear all of the key points even from his place standing with several others who look just like him. He swallows, chest tightening at the sight of a small boy he knows is Sunjata, reaching for comfort that is quickly swatted away. Ronin’s breath catches, and blue eyes focus on the man responsible. He’s no predator, not in the way of his husband, or the Flood, but had he fangs, they’d be drawing blood against his lips right now.
But it gets worse, and before he can step out of the line - before he can do a thing - those dreadful words are whispered and suddenly it’s not a dream any more. It’s Aoife, and Seren, and the children he might have had, if Vanya had lived. It’s every shred of paternal energy roaring out of him - the boy is shoved mercilessly off the bridge and into the water.
”No!”
He’s flinging the gun to the ground, breaking formation to run to the side of the bridge, gazing into the raging waters with fretful desperation.
It’s still a dream – the fall feels slow, but the panic is rushed and hurried, a pounding thundering sensation as Sunjata falls from the bridge. His father doesn’t even stay to look – turning just as a guard catches his attention – the cry, a distraction but before Sunjata can see anything else the water crushes in on him.
It’s cold. It’s so very cold.
He doesn’t have time to get his lungs full of air before he’s plunged below, the force of the water hitting his back, the flood water that flips him over and over, all have taken it from him. And then, then when he can finally get his bearings, he’s sinking. He’s never swam before. His father had assumed he might just drown during this test, had hoped for it even, that the training hadn’t been worth the time.
Sunjata’s chest begins to ache, a gnawing feeling as he tries to gasp for breath and gets a mouthful of water while he scrambles to the surface, trying desperately to get air into his lungs. He emerges for a moment, a sputtering cough leaving him with enough time to look around and see two of the five boys haven’t surfaced either. He knows they never will.
The boy begins to try to swim, arms flailing in an attempt to keep him upright, above the water – but the debris comes barreling down the riverbed. It takes him under again and Sunjata fights against it, tossing and turning in the waves to try and free himself of the debris. His head appears briefly, a mop of dark hair, his leg clamped between a log and a rock, and he doesn’t follow the way the river pulls the rest of them down the curves.
Up above, some of the parents have already left – unable to see that their children won’t resurface. Sunjata’s parents, however, drift down toward the bank, his father pacing the edge of the river with his arms behind his back, scanning and watching and waiting. And his mother? She tries her best to not show an ounce of sorrow for what’s occurring, but her hands, tucked into jet black furs, begin to shake. The guards alongside Ronin simply snort at the Star, slipping past him to follow the Senzaoks along the riverbed, one standing there beside Sunjata’s mother with a gun prepped to raise toward where Sunjata’s stuck in the water.
i said i saw you in the water
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Before he can look around, everyone is leaving. Ronin feels the world pressing in under the helmet, watching the boys sink - two of them not surfacing. His breath just won’t seem to come, like he’s in there with them, and he spots him, he spots Sunjata, bobbing like a cork in the riotous pull of the river. What the fuck are you doing, he wants to scream at the crowd, staggering back and retrieving the gun.
His mind has no idea what to do with it, but the dream he’s hijacked does, and he cocks it and readies it towards the other guards on the bank. Bullets bark out of it, the noise utterly foreign to the Taliesin who holds the weapon, but it’s enough to send a scattering of warning shots towards the riverbank.
Throwing it down again, he wrenches the helmet off and takes a full, panicky gulp of air. Then he’s running for the edge of the bridge, throwing himself into the water. And gods is it cold, even with the gear he’s wearing. Ronin has to fight the current, has to fight the debris that threatens to drag at him, and distantly he knows he needs to change this. He needs to shape it, to steer it into something shared, something more than this nightmare.
But there’s the boy, and Ronin is swimming for him. He gets there in time to realise he’s stuck fast, and he slips under the water, trying to free his foot from the rock.
