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!
"Left." Nate repeats dutifully, tipping them that way like the captain of a great ship. "My nonna used to say left was... left is the sinister path." There's some reasoning for it, buried deep in his head, but he can't summon it at the moment, just leaves the statement there. Regardless of what his intentions may have been, as soon the words are in the air they shape it, shake the bubble of safety they've built around themselves.
The inside of the house is painted, deep reds pouring in from the windows, casting long shadows that Nate does everything he can to avoid stepping in. Dark is falling faster than they are moving, and the shadows grow, the whispers grow. Without thinking, Nate's hands drift up Sunjata's face, covering his eyes, sparing him the horror of the last stretch of their adventure.
It's only by following the light of the sun that they make it to the kitchen, Nate bumping into the counter hard, not realizing quite how close he'd gotten when he was feeding into the urge to keep his eyes locked on the light. "Here. We... we made it." The words carry a breath of relief with them, Nate turning to wrap his arms around Sunjata, holding him close and tight. As if they'd walked miles, through burning lava and freezing cold, and not merely down their stairs.
The streets are only empty when I need someoneThere's nothing to see here, move along!
“But…” Sunjata begins to rumble, brows furrowing despite his eyes being shut. “Aren’t we left handed?” He asks quietly, unsure, if it were the sinister path weren’t they already down it? Hadn’t they drifted down it with the Devil’s Advocates and the shit they’d done in their previous worlds? Perhaps this was how they atoned.
But then, Nate’s covering his face, and Sunjata’s eyes close beneath the feeling of long fingers like a blindfold. And then they’re walking and walking until they get there. He can feel the bump that Nate walks into, feels his lover turn in his arms, though Sunjata keeps his eyes closed until he’s positive they’re safe.
Arms wrap around him now and Sunjata leans forward, adjusting the blanket a bit to better cocoon them in their protection, forehead leaning forward to rest against Nate’s, steel eyes shadowed opening up to scan Nate’s scarred face. “We made it.” He agrees, perhaps a bit weakly, arms wrapping around Nate’s shoulders and keeping him close while he feels like he might waver in step. “…Now what?” He’s already forgotten what they were here for.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
And just like that, the reasoning clicks. ”We are. She used to tell me, if I didn’t stop using my hand, my left hand, the devil would tempt me into sins.” There's the edge of a laugh living in his words, the explanation more lighthearted than it should be, considering what he’s talking about. ”She used to tie my hand behind my back to make me stop.” So silly, considering the very real shadows they’re stepping past now, the real fears surrounding them.
It’s another forgotten thought once they’re in the kitchen, his back to something solid and his front to Sunjata, the blanket wrapped around them. Nate leans into the other happily, rolling into it in a leftover feline gesture. His eye opens to a stormy grey, and it feels like so long since he's looked Sunjata in the eyes, since he'd last really looked. If he was ever interrupted, it would be too soon, and no sooner does that thought drift through his head that Sunjata speaks. Nate blinks, his gaze darting away as he tried to remember the reason for their pilgrimage.
"I don't..." Why had they come down? It was the kitchen, so - "Are you hungry? Was I going to make you something?" Nate wants to shift out from under the blanket, but the shadows are deep still, only growing darker, and he is loathe to shatter the illusion of safety they have. "It's getting dark." He mumbles, as if it isn't obvious, and tightens his arms around Sunjata.
The streets are only empty when I need someoneThere's nothing to see here, move along!
“The devil, huh?” Sunjata murmurs as a vague, glittering memory – or was it a dream? – comes to the surface of his mind. Hadn’t someone with fangs on the beach called him the devil, too? Wasn’t he the leader of the Devil’s Advocates? Yes… yes, Sunjata was. Is? He chews at his lip briefly while they step around shadows that snake out and lash out like whips trying to latch onto them. “I’m glad you didn’t.” He murmurs softly, offering Nate a smile he can’t see, but that he might feel beneath the feel of his hands as a blindfold.
But then they’re nose to nose, the shielding blanket keeping them safe – looking into each other’s eyes and Sunjata finds himself drowning in the electric blue of Nate’s good eye, wanting nothing more than to press his lips against Nate’s and pretend that everything was okay. But he has to ruin it, to question what they were doing here again. And it seems Nate’s forgotten too, which is fine. It gives him more time to stand here with him, to comfortably wrap around and entangle himself in with Nate.
He shakes his head a bit, before he’s leaning in and pressing himself against Nate – his head finding the crook of Nate’s neck and resting there, lips brushing against his skin. “I don’t think it was food… Water… Maybe? No. Water’s bad.” He visibly shudders with the thought, before he’s dragging his head back up to press his nose against Nate’s – as close as can be, trying to scan his lovers face. “Should we… Maybe if we turn on some lights the shadows will go away?” It’s a whispered suggestion.
Light kept the LongNight monsters away, right? The same concept applied here, right?
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
A smile twists Nate's lips, just as invisible, but just as easy to feel in the warmth of his voice. "I'm glad too." He doesn't know the connections being drawn in the other mans mind, but he's glad for the similarity, the extra link between them. Not that they need anything more than the natural magnetism between them, more obvious in how they press together than in anything else.
Fingers twist in Sunjata's hair as the attuned's head dips, Nate rocking the slightest, trying to offer everything he could to his fiance. The shudder increases his pace a little bit, lips brushing against the othre mans temple. "Not water... there's mmm... coffee? Soup, I think." The more he says, the more likely something will stand out to Sunjata. They're eye to eye before Nate can think of anything else, distraction overtaking him yet again, even the soft suggestion taking a moment to actually register. "You're so clever." He praises immediately, leaning in to press their lips together in a long kiss.
Once they part, on the edge of too long again, Nate shifts, turning so they're back to front again and lifting the blanket just enough to see. The kitchen is almost more shadow than light now, the sun a sliver on the ocean's surface. This is his home though, and Nate would know where to find a light source if he were blinded. A heavy jar rests on the counter, the edges of the glass stained with black, the candle burned just below the lip of the jar. Greedy hands reach out for it, pull it close against Nate's chest like an infant. "Lighter?" He tips his head back, hoping Sunjata can provide the spark for their defense.
The streets are only empty when I need someoneThere's nothing to see here, move along!
He’d never get tired of the feeling of Nate’s fingers running through his curls, regardless of how sweat-slicked they might be. And his arms wrap tighter around Nate’s shoulders, leaning back eventually – reluctantly – when they’re eye to eye again, Sunjata’s nose brushing against Nate’s with an intensity that almost has him hitching a breath. “Whiskey.” Sunjata says with a grin spreading across his face, as if that was the answer all along.
Though part of him wonders if Nate will shoot it down. Coffee or tea was probably far better for him, but gods how badly he wants a drink overcomes any sort of rationality.
At least he has some to suggest light, and he’s melting into the kiss as if their love might banish the creatures from reaching out and snatching them away. It works, in his mind, for a bit until they part again, a low whine leaving him as Nate turns and he buries his face into Nate’s dark hair instead. And he follows Nate further, until the Ascended is clutching a candle, and Sunjata reaches almost perhaps a bit frantically in a drawer hoping and praying his hand isn’t cut off by the end of it.
He finds what he’s looking for, however, a trusty little Caido version of a zippo that Libbs had made him almost a year ago. Practiced hands flip it open, striking the wheel so the flame sparks. “They’ll definitely go away now.” He breathes, flashing a confident grin in the firelight, before reaching in to light the candlewick.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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 just a note of admonishment in Nate's voice when he speaks, shaking his head. "No whiskey. You're sick." And not only sick, but afraid too. It was a kindness, leaving Sunjata as focused as he was to deal with the shadows. It would be far more dangerous for the other man to lose his good sense, to firget his fear.
Nate can't help the way he flinches, just a little, when the lighter clicks, and the little flame roars to life. He feels like a moth, utterly transfixed by a thing he knows will destroy him. A little rumbling laugh leaves him in response to Sunjata's words, the candle lifted to meet the flame, to spark into life. It's honestly a little underwhelming. A flickering circle of warm light, barely enough to keep the shadows away. Undulating edges and sharp digits flick at the very edges of the candlelight, untamed shadows trying to press close out of spite for the light now.
They need something bigger. Something more. Something- "Whiskey!" Nate's head pops up, nearly bashing Sunjata in the nose in his excitement. "Not to drink, but if we um, just put a little bit in a cup, we can light it, like a big candle." And if that isn't enough, they can make more, they can light up the whole kitchen, until there's nowhere for the shadows to hide. Nate turns again, carrying the candle with them as they make their way over to the whiskey, the glasses. A generous finger is poured out, Nate shuffled as close to the counter as he can be, trying to stay within the candlelight.
The glass is lifted, much in the same way the candle itself was, an offering to the lighter. This time, Nate's almost ready for the spark, when something occurs to him, and he drops the glass, splashing whiskey across the counter, the glass miraculously in one piece still, just a single long crack running up its side. It doesn't even leak when Nate replaces the alcohol in it, leaving the glass on the counter this time. "You can't use the lighter. It'll um, fwoosh, and burn you."
The streets are only empty when I need someoneThere's nothing to see here, move along!
“You’re sick.” Sunjata mumbles under his breath, smile faltering a bit to edge toward a playful smirk, before all is forgotten and he’s lighting the makeshift Caido Zippo, careful as he can be to try and keep it from touching Nate – realizing belatedly that his lover was quite flammable. But it goes well – at least until the faded light of the candle seems disappointing and he frowns – staring and watching the flames, transfixed and unsure.
But then Nate’s mentioning whiskey again, and Sunjata isn’t following at first – nose bumping into Nate’s enough that he wiggles it, nostrils flaring as he tries not to sneeze. “Oh.” He comments, brows furrowing as he tries to piece it together through a sluggish mind, the blanket falling about his shoulders like a scarf. But he huddles close to the candle when he follows Nate over to the counter.
There’s a bit of a spill but Sunjata thinks nothing of it, instead only groaning quietly at the spilled liquor. But there – there’s an idea. Nate fills it up and tells him not to use the lighter, and he obliges, brow furrowing as he tries to think of what to do instead. “Oh, okay, wait.” He reaches into another drawer, pulling a cigarette out. He lights it, taking a drag off of it, leaning forward to press a smokey shared kiss to his lover, before wrapping an arm around Nate and pulling him into him to keep him away from the new makeshift candle.
“I’ll protect you if it splashes. Ready?” He asks, exhaling a bit of the smoke through his nose, and dropping the lit cigarette into the glass. He watches it sink, no fire to be found, and his brows furrow a bit in frustration. “Fuck, fine, what a waste.” He half pouts, reaching into a drawer to find matches. Now with a bit more frustration evident, he strikes the match until it lights and hangs it over the edge of the glass and watches it fwoosh, a pleased sharp inhale of breath as he looks back to Nate with a bit of smugness, dropping the match into the flaming alcohol and wrapping both arms around the Ascended.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
As long as one of them gets the plan, Nate really doesn't need Sunjata to click in immediately. And since it's his plan, of course he knows what to do. It's easy. Even with the spill, a minor setback, and in Nate's mind, no more of a waste than the whiskey he drinks. The only other setback is the fact that they can't use the lighter, but Sunjata has another plan, a smoke pulled out from somewhere.
Nate's hand comes up to cup his lovers face as he leans into the kiss, his body pressing against the other mans even after they part. "I trust you." He whispers, close enough to press another kiss to Sunjata's cheek, even as his eyes stay locked on the glass, waiting for it to ignite as the cigarette drops into the liquid. Disappointment rears its head as the cherry is choked out instead, and their circle of light still woefully small. Ignition is a responsibility that's fallen onto Sunjata's shoulders, and Nate is patient, waiting to see if there's another option, something else to try.
There is. Matches. Third times the charm, right? (Though honestly Nate isn't sure which attempt this really counts as). He hums a soft funeral dirge for the wasted cigarette as the match flares into life now, as that flare spreads to the glass. Success.
It's difficult to tell what exactly goes wrong first. It's absolutely impossible for either of them to tell. All Nate knows is one moment, he's pressed against his lover, smoke still lingering around them, the whiskey candle lighting up the kitchen. The next moment, there's a sharp crack ringing through the air, the whiskey glass shattering, and suddenly the entire counter is awash in flames, the spilled alcohol carrying the flames across the entire surface, dripping it onto the floor. Nate recoils, nails digging into Sunjata's shoulders in his haste to put something between him and danger.
"Sunny Sunny Sunny." There's desperation in his tone, the whine of fix it somehow obvious in Nate's voice even if he never says the words outright.
The streets are only empty when I need someoneThere's nothing to see here, move along!
Trust is one hell of a thing, especially when bad decisions after bad decisions are made. But they’re in too deep, too invested on scrubbing out the monsters that lash out from the shadows. And like LongNight all over again, a spark becomes a flame, becomes a minor explosion that seems like something that can be dealt with. The glass shatters, fiery alcohol spreading like a line of gasoline to a bonfire. And in Longheat? When the sun had already dried what rain had flooded them during monsoon season, it’s essentially a tinderbox. Much of the house is made of stone, but structurally within it, wood and fabric make the house a home, and it’s those that start to get closer to the fingers of flame.
He can feel Nate’s fingers dig into his skin and he’s already stepping back, hearing the worry and whine in Nate’s voice and immediately trying to fix it. But Sunjata was never quite good when it came to flame, especially not now when his mind isn’t entirely there. They have to smother the flame, right? Take away the oxygen and it’ll burn out, right?
He grabs a towel, trying to pat the flame out from the counter, not noticing when it pushes the flame back toward the curtains that cover the counter, to the cupboards that begin to fuel it more, to a cabinet that holds a few glasses of alcohol that already begin to heat and combust. He steps back into Nate, backing away from the counter as some semblance of sense comes over him. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.” He turns then to Nate, fire light flickering within his steel gaze. “Go get the important things we can’t lose and get out.” Already, Haai is awake, grabbing items and barreling through the front door to deposit them on the lawn.
They can still contain this from spreading, though, the home far enough away from Remi and Ronin’s it shouldn’t catch. But Sunjata’s not too sure of the state of this one at present, not wanting Nate to get too close to it in fear of losing him.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
09-15-2020, 10:04 PM (This post was last modified: 09-15-2020, 10:09 PM by Nate.)
NATE
Backing up further, Nate leaves the fire to his lover, though the flames still pin him, close, so close, to danger, to destruction, to blessed warmth and life. Just a touch, a flicker. Nate finds himself leaning close, until the flames spread, the kitchen more harm than home now. The conflagration finally breaks the spell, and Nate doesn’t need to be told twice to go running through the house, nearly tripping over Haai as she runs past him down the stairs.
Important things. Things they can’t replace. The second definition is much easier to follow, nearly everything he lays eyes on seeming important. From their room, a random smattering of clothes are thrown over Pemota, the starwhal following Haai out to dump things on the lawn. Boxes are grabbed, almost at random, though special care is taken to grab certain things. Lusea’s lantern, a few things left behind by Clem, his bow from Melita, still the only one he has.
Rushing down and outside, Nate drops off his cargo, being as gentle as he can with the things that require it before rushing back into the house, meaning to grab the most important thing of all. Flames lick at the kitchen window, a prelude to the hellscape he rushes into. ”Sunny!” Nate isn’t willing to rush into the heart of the fire, even to grab his lover, but he goes as close as he dares, reaching out to grab Sunjata’s attention. With only one of them able to fight the fire, there’s no way it can be contained. They can only get out.
The streets are only empty when I need someoneThere's nothing to see here, move along!
If there’s one thing that certainly keeps him moving, it’s fear. One thing after another, the fire connecting to new pieces of wood, falling as the structure of that begins to wane, catching another, and much like dominoes it goes and goes and goes. Nate’s left, grabbed important things and Haai’s returned into the house to grab a few things with Sunjata — like the daggers, the brass knuckles, the bow Deimos made him, trinkets that are from the upstairs that Sunjata doesn’t want to forget.
And lastly, he bolts into Melita’s room, grabbing Clementine’s lantern — before he can hear Nate calling to him. “I’m coming!” He calls, managing to find a surge of adrenaline that has him bolting through the house as the flames grow higher and higher, pausing to grab a bucket they might be able to fill with water from an outside hose just to ensure the flame stays there.
He takes a quick detour on the porch to lift the latch of Melita’s bat box, letting free the bat so it doesn’t get stuck in the middle of the flames.
And then he’s outside, almost, barreling into Nate out into the darkness outside. “You’re alright, yeah?” He asks, burying his face into Nate’s shoulder, panting against the smoke and his racing heartbeat, trying to walk them further into their lawn, away from danger, dropping all items in his possession on the lawn to wrap his arms around Nate.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
All Nate needs to hear is his lovers voice, his confirmation, and he can leave, escape the licking flames and blinding smoke. Or at least, he should leave, he hesitates, almost too long, though it still feels like he should wait until he can feel the other, until he’s positive Sunjata will get out.
Those precious few moments when he's alone, in front of the house, fill him with terror, with shame. It’s strange, watching something so familiar be destroyed. Better once Sunjata rushes out, despite the way he hesitates on the porch. He’s not brave enough to step close to meet his fiancé, but his arms are open and waiting.
”Yea, I’m alright.” Nate’s arms wrap around his fiancé, trying to press against the other man, even as he stumbles back. As soon as he gets his feet back under him, he’s being pushed back again, stumbling again, this time falling heavily on his back, and pulling Sunjata along with him. Despite the circumstances that have put them here, the outside air feels safe. Especially with the conflagration that was once their home, chasing away the shadows.
Huffing out a rough laugh, Nate surges up to press his lips against Sunjata, holding the other close. He isn’t sure if the feeling overtaking his chest is relief, or grief, but either way he lets it flood through him, his hands moving with a desperation across Sunjata’s back, his shoulders.
The streets are only empty when I need someoneThere's nothing to see here, move along!
He’s there and he’s barreling into Nate and dropping all the things he’d grabbed out of the house, arms wrapping tightly around Nate. He can feel the Ascended stumble, but relief swells perhaps twice as hard with the illness in him, and he doesn’t care to stop. He doesn’t until they’re falling back and Sunjata manages to plant his arms on either side of Nate, not wanting to crush him, but still wanting to be close.
He could almost laugh too with the relief of it all, but his lips are captured by Nate, and he drops himself a bit more onto his fiancé, onto his elbows so he can reach up with both hands to cradle Nate’s face. He’s still out of breath though, and reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to press a fevered and sweaty forehead to Nate’s own, panting for breath again. “Do you think… It’ll catch… To Remi and Ronin’s?” He breathes the question, a pause for each sharp inhale, able to smell the burning of the wood flooding his senses.
He’s not sure he wants to look back and watch the purple wisteria catch flame, and so he keeps his gaze locked on Nate’s one eyed stare while Haai pulls the items further from the fire back toward the edge of the yard.
And the house continues to burn, the structure of the second floor beginning to fall away down below.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
