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!
The dream meshes and melds away into nothing but a bright golden light flickering in through a window and the warm heat that reflects and radiates off of Ronin’s body as he remains nestled in close — slowly coming to, remembering the dream and wondering if the blackberry scent he can smell still is real or if it was a lingering effect of the dream. But Ronin keeps him close, an arm around him and Sunjata’s not sure Ronin knows what Sunjata had just dreamed.
The words confuse him further, his head turning against Ronin’s to peer at him with softer steel — so much like the boy’s eyes. “What about?” He rumbles, thickly accented, confusion flickering off him in waves before he’s shifting in the bed a bit and peeling himself from the Star. “What were we talking about? I think… I think I fell asleep.”
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 almost says it - about your father - but he stops himself with a mere glance down into soft grey eyes. The Sunjata now is not so different from the one in his dream; certainly not capable of holding that sort of conversation without things becoming potentially troubling. ”I think I might have fallen asleep with you,” he says instead, ruffling a hand through his hair and letting the other man go. He feels on fire with the heat that Jata is kicking out, Ronin climbing out of bed and stretching.
”I don’t know about you, but I am starving,” he says, grinning over his shoulder and offering him a hand out of bed as well. ”What say we go downstairs and make something to eat? You need to keep your strength up, you know.” He’s long given up trying to ground any of those who are sick in reality for too long. As long as he can keep them fed and watered, and stop their minds from catching fire... that will have to be enough.
“Mmm, dream talk.” Sunjata concludes as Ronin’s pulling away. A part of him already misses the added warmth of the Star, but there’s a bit more of him that realizes how parched he is, how much the thought of water sounds horrible, and how maybe — just maybe — he can start the day with some whiskey.
There’s a hand offered to him and he takes it — peering briefly at the door as he pulls himself up out of bed with Ronin’s help. “Pancakes.” Sunjata offers with a fanged smirk back at Ronin. “So you did have the idea of food with you when you came through the window.” He accuses, his dreary state having him make a bit more sense, though he still wears nothing but a pair of shorts. Ronin might be able to spy the scar to his leg where he’d been trapped as a child, among the multitude of other scars he’s gotten while here.
But he’s opening the door, forgetting completely about the shadow he’d seen blocking it, and makes his way down the stairs relatively easily. And then the kitchen’s there — Sunjata immediately moving to open the alcohol cabinet.
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.
”Pancakes,” Ronin agrees with a gentle nod, unsurprised to hear that this is what Sunjata wants. He trails after him easily, letting out a laugh and having to nod in agreement with the other man’s assumption. At least there’s a little clarity - more than when he’d first arrived, certainly. Trying not to look at a scar he knows is there, they move into the kitchen and Ronin hunts around to gather utensils and ingredients, mimicking his past actions from a dream.
He does notice the other man heading for a liquor cabinet, though, and surreptitiously the huntsman does some digging and produces a jug and a couple of shot glasses. Whilst Jata is turned away, he quickly fills both with water. ”Whiskey is an evening drink,” he says simply, setting the jug on the table and offering a ‘shot’ of water to his friend. ”Vodka will wake you up more.”
The blur of the dream begins to fade away and Sunjata can’t quite recall the whole process of making the pancakes. But what he can figure out, is that as he glances to Ronin the view looks oddly familiar – standing in his kitchen, things of his own around the room, and Ronin standing there in his usual garb, making pancakes. It’s enough to warm him up inside, though he can’t remember why now, and he nearly misses what Ronin mentions about the whiskey.
“Sorry, what?” He asks, his gaze clearing up a bit as he focuses on Ronin and the clear shot glass handed to him. He takes it, instinctively, in a scarred hand spiderwebbed with lightning, flashing a wide grin to Ronin. “Oh, yeah, probably true.” He agrees with a slightly awkward chuckle, moving to take the shot and let it burn down his throat.
And it burns, against his parched and dry throat, melding and melting against his insides that feels much like an alcohol burn – so much so he coughs, squints at it, squints at Ronin before jutting the shot glass out for another shot. And it goes like this for a bit, while they make pancakes together, and Sunjata never quite fully ends up remembering or figuring out the fact Ronin had also been there in his dream.
- FIN <3
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.
