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 Ark is leaving early. That news will have permeated through Torchline in no time at all, and quite frankly, Jack is probably one of the few living there who believes that LongHeat hasn't been quite long enough. He hasn't been sick, and he hasn't been able to enjoy himself all that much what with the Hanged Man being in a sorry state from the monsoons and with governors changing hands all over the place. And Eloise being so rude and drowning, to boot.
But even though it's near enough time for his ship to leave port, he still owes a personal visit to the proprietress of Torchline's most famous bar. Business and pleasure, if he's lucky, and he swans into the Hanged Man at an hour just late enough that Mik should have left, but Raza should still be haunting the place.
An enchanted knife unfortunately did not make its way into his possession on the last voyage, but he has managed something cool for the bar. It's currently leaning against the door outside - a shark's jaw, studded with various nicks and notches that the smuggler has filled in with various gems and other ridiculousness. She can find it after he's left, he's sure.
For now, he approaches the empty bar and leans against the counter, knocking on it for service. If ya know what I mean.
Gods, but if we don’t have a knack for leavin’ things to the last minute these days.
I’d heard about the Ark leavin’ early, of course. An’ even if I don’t like the open sea, I have to admit that I was jealous. With all the upheaval, I almost, almost wanted to get the fuck outta Torchline too. But then I got money to make again an’ my little birds to listen to. Looks like Sunjata don’t want me on the government again, so I can just… relax. Whatever that means. Let life go back to normal.
As normal as it could be, with everythin’ completely changed in the span’a a year.
There’s one thing that don’t change, though, an’ that’s the bills. I’m in the back tallyin’ up the books when I hear a knock on the bar. Well. It’s a Monday an’ we’re usually dead after the weekend, so Mik’s got the day off. Hoa is surprisingly quiet, so it must be someone I know. I put down the pencil an’ head through, immediately smilin’ a bit when I see who it is.
“Come for that free night’a drinks, I see,” teasin’ lightly, obviously deflecti’ the real reason we both know why he’s ‘ere.
“Whatcha want?” Takin’ my place behind the bar, I lean forward - further than necessary an arch a brow at him. The bar’s his tonight.
"As if I'd miss it," Jack rumbles in reply, glancing up just a fraction before Raza swans through from the back room. Her smile is returned, the smuggler's blue eyes drinking her all in - and it feels far too long since he's done that, actually. So when she sidles up behind the bar and leans forward and gives quite a wonderfully plunging display of cleavage, Jack takes his time admiring that too.
Raising his eyebrows at her question - because they both know what he wants - he can't help but relish in the silence of the bar. It is his, tonight, and he doesn't need to focus on anything else but the caress of Raza's thoughts, letting them envelop him completely. "A whiskey on the rocks," he drawls, "But I'd prefer the taste of it from your mouth, if that ain't too much to ask."
Hardly a freebie with all the work he did for it, though, so let’s call it what it is: a reward.
Maybe it’s my reward, too. For finally givin’ up the government life, for bein’ patient, for fightin’ a fuckin’ Sea Panther an’ livin’ to tell the tale. I give a little half-smirk at his request an’ turn to reach for somethin’ on the top shelf. There’s plenty’a time to ogle if he wants, the end’a Longheat burnin’ just as hot as the middle of it an’ meagre clothing is still the name’a the game for most folks. Bottle in hand, I turn an’ come out from behind the bar, droppin’ the whiskey on it real quick before puttin’ the CLOSED sign up.
There wasn’t any doubt between either’a us that I was gonna fulfill that part’a the request. So I sidle back on over to where I left the two’a ‘em an’ pull the cork outta the bottle. Takin’ a swig, I let it burn the inside’a my mouth an’ crook a finger at ‘im.
Oh, Jack ogles all right, making sure to get a very good look at her indeed as she reaches for the top shelf. There's a hint of a smirk on his face to know that they're going for the best stuff in the bar, and his blue eyes follow her as she crosses the room to close up shop. He's already straightened back up by the time Raza returns - really, they both know what he came to the Hanged Man for, and booze is only a very small part of it.
Indeed, as she beckons him over he's already moving, sidling up close to press her back against the bar, leaning in to sample her lips, her whiskey sweet tongue. Thoughts ignite along his telepathy, sending invisible shivers down his spine, Jack's hands roaming over Raza's hips, her waist, her breasts. No time to waste - he sets sail soon.
His lips touch mine and it’s all uphill from there as I give way an’ become more pliant than usual; the edge’a the bar is pressed into the middle’a my back an’ I use it for leverage to push back into Jack. Putting my arms around his neck at first, a low groan stumbles up from the back’a my throat that’s filled with wantin’ an’ need. They travel down his body, feelin’ the muscles through his thin shirt, the body that marks ‘im as one ‘a us. Wirey. Striped and scarred. Strong. An’ when his hands find my tits, I gasp on an inhale, wantin’ ‘im to stay there a little longer. Wantin ‘im to roll my nips between ‘is fingers while my own dip under his shirt.
Teasin’ along the edge’a his belt line, grabbin’ hard at the slightest curve ‘a his own hips. After a bit’a careesin’ over his pants, I finally start to undo a buckle. After tryin’ to catch ‘is lower lip in my teeth, I pull away though it ain’t to watch what my hands are doin’. They know this motion well. It’s just time to shed some clothes.
Their lips touch and Jack's magic ignites with everything Raza has on offer; thoughts, feelings, the whole fucking shabang. The intensity of it swamps his senses, something the captain succumbs to willingly. Honestly, if he's ever going to get killed, it's probably going to be when he's having sex and his telepathy is too busy helping him enjoy himself to care. But it's probably not going to be tonight, given that he already knows it's sleepy and silent outside, empty within the bar but for the two of them, and Raza wants this as much as he does.
So it's a safe time to be vulnerable, and Jack dives into it dick first. An appreciative groan rumbles in his chest at the touch of her hands and the signals given by her body, and the fraction of space she creates between them isn't wasted. Pulling off his shirt in one fluid motion, he lets her work on his belt buckle while he helps to strip her top half, Jack dropping down to let rough hands enjoy her curves, to take one dusky nipple between his teeth and lavish it with a tongue warmed by whiskey.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
This has always been good between them and Raza has never thought to question why. She doesn’t care when she’s in the moment, when he lingers on her tits and she arches in response to his tongue, heat travelin’ down, down, down to a cunt that says yes, finally. Her hands still seem to be on autopilot, pullin' the leather strap out of its loops - the final barrier just a button away. After a bit of a fumble, it slides out of its hole (ha) and she reaches her hand into his pants, searching for her prize.
And as her hand slips in, she starts to rock her hips, searching for friction against her own constraints. Something needs to be against her clit - anything, really - clothing, fingers, a thigh. Comin' back up to him, her mouth trails up his collarbone to his neck and jawline, leavin' little nips and mewls of desire in its wake.
Jack's already rock hard, something Raza will find out the second she slips her hand into his pants. With belt and shirts abandoned, there's now a more acceptable amount of skin on show, and the smuggler relishes the heat of her body and the siren song of her mind as she arcs forward. He grinds his hips against hers, intent on amplifying the friction between them, his head tilting to the side to welcome the press of her teeth and lips.
Suddenly moving to hitch her up and onto the bar, he's blessed with a face full of her assets, happily going to work again on the curve of her breasts, the sun-kissed skin of her collarbones. His fingers go to work on the buttons of her pants as well, shucking them down enough that he might pull them off entirely, his kisses dropping lower. Jack can feel her need to be touched, but it's a teasing that's always worth the wait.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
His hardness makes her smile against his lips as she pulls away for a hot second to spit into her palm - a lubricant that will do for now, though it isn’t long before he lifts her up onto the bar and she loses her grip on his cock. Raza chuckles and sighs in appreciation at the shift as he continues to tend to her, leaning back to allow easy access to whatever he wants. And then - she surges forward to tug on his shirt, eager for the warmth of his skin, the strength of his arms (gods, she’s always been a sucker for someone with great arms), the smell of salt and sea and wood that is Jack.
Lifting up at the hem of his shirt, Raza breaks contact - once that’s properly discarded she lifts her hips to slide her shorts off - naked and wet - a welcome, pulsing need starting to settle between her thighs.
He's smiling against her skin, pulling back enough that she can tug his shirt over his head; it's all tans and tats and scars and piercings from there, their bodies coming together in a flash of heat that screams throughout Jack's mind as well as his body. His fingers come to help strip her shorts off, and then they also get discarded in the growing pile of clothes. Hands gliding along the length of well muscled thighs, the smuggler leans in to capture Raza's mouth again in a kiss that's near savage with desire.
Unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down enough to free his erection, one of Jack's hands sneaks down now to slip between her legs, and he hums a note of satisfaction to feel her wetness, to rub his thumb against her clit. There's still the sweetness of the booze on Raza's tongue, and the heat of her skin is nothing to what her cunt promises, but he's sailed this ship before, and he knows better than to rush the lady.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
When his fingers find her clit, she props one leg up on the side of the bar (Raza has flexible hips, who knew?) and another on a bar stool that hasn’t been kicked out of the way yet. A low, guttural groan of encouragement urges him on as she leans back on her hands and her head falls back.
She lets him stay there, stoking the fires for a moment until she’s ready, at which point a foot comes up and pushes playfully against his chest, nudging him backwards so she has room to hop off the bar with a wicked smile on her face. When she lands, she reaches for the tops of his pants, trying to pull them down so he has far more freedom to move. And then once the offending pants are off, Raza leans forward and runs her hands from his thighs on up towards the chiseled V of his abs and his hips, leaning forward to tease the tip of his cock with her tongue.
She doesn’t know how long she can stay down there, but feels very firmly about tit for tat foreplay. She also feels strongly about the electricity between them, the savagery, the permission to be hungry and sweaty and animalistic if they want to be. How long does she really want to postpone that?
Raza spreads her legs and Jack relishes every spark of pleasure that roars through her, in the curious and very advantageous position of knowing how to respond based on her thoughts and feelings. It's enough to nearly drive him to distraction, honestly, the smuggler just about to hitch one of her legs over his shoulder when she pushes him away. Scoffing out a laugh and letting her slip down off the bar, it's a helluva show to watch her drop to her knees and strip him off.
Kicking away the offending garment the second he's able, Jack's lips part in a soft hitch of breath; anticipation in the face of wicked smiles and sweet lips and a hot tongue teasing over the head of his cock. His fingers wind through Raza's hair, and he raises an eyebrow mischievously down at her. It suggests that he might accidentally pitch forward into her waiting mouth if she keeps this up, though he's known her long enough that she might just be into that, at this point.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
She’s wet enough, but there’s no such thing as too much lubrication, is there? Slipping her lips down his shaft, her tongue goes to work, swirling around the head as she takes as much of him as she can in. Bobbing her head up and down, Raza works a little to give Jack a precursor to her cunt, creating suction and friction and heat while one hand dips down to her clit again, playing with herself.
It isn’t long before that familiar pressure begins to build and she finds herself losing focus on her oral ministrations, so she pulls her head away and stands back up, flashing him a come hither look before promptly bending herself back over the bar. It’s not like the smuggler needs an invitation, but that doesn’t stop the barkeep from glancing over her shoulder at him, legs spread, ass slowly swaying back and forth suggestively.
Even if her mind wasn’t screaming it, the message is clear. Fuck her. Now.
